Thunder and Roses
by Sybl Angelkat
Summary: Erik/OW, movie-verse after the fire. Erik reluctantly accepts that he cannot have Christine and resumes being the Opera Ghost. As the Opera reopens, a woman and her dog accidentally stumble through time and she knows his story. What will happen?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't own "Angel of Music" obviously, but I did bend the lyrics to fit the story. Hope nobody minds! The melody is the exact same, though, and it's done just as Christine and Erik sang it in the movie.

Chapter 1...Aftermath

Whenever he tried to sleep, the same images flashed through his mind: the flames, Christine, the falling chandelier, Christine, Raoul, Christine, screaming people, Christine, losing his mask and being exposed, and Christine. It seemed that every thought he had was tied to her in some way. It had been unbearable at first, but now Christine's face only haunted him in dreams. Erik had not been to the surface for quite some time.

When he woke, it was the same as always: the candles lit all around him, the swan bed that he'd just flopped over on (he rarely slept with blankets), the pillow beneath him still damp from tears. Aside from his friendship with Madame Giry, he had yet any real relationships to speak of, thus he had never learned to regulate his emotions. They were often severe and sudden as a thunderstorm.

Today, he just felt drained, exhausted. He hadn't bothered to wear his mask in a long time. Meg had given it to Madame Giry and she'd returned it to him, but he just passed it without picking it up.

Erik was tempted to go back to sleep, but he knew _she'd_ be waiting there. He sat up, his white shirt and black trousers contrasting with the red sheets. His hair was still a tangled mess and his expression was that of a lost child. He looked around, seeing his monkey, his organ, his music paper (which was mostly blank), and the broken mirrors. Other than the swan bed, he'd destroyed all of his Christine-related things. He'd thought to keep them, but it hurt too much. Surprisingly enough, she'd remained here. Madame Giry told him that she would be staying just until she and Raoul were married. Raoul was working on getting them their own house. To this news, he'd turned away from his best friend to keep her from seeing his tears. Knowing he would want to be alone, Madame Giry only placed her comforting hand on his shoulder as a mother would comfort a son.

"Erik," she said gently, "it's not the end of the world. The two of you simply weren't meant to be. There will be another."

Then, she left.

"How can there be another?!" Erik roared into the darkness, making his voice echo throughout the cavern, "It hurts too much! I won't allow it!"

His voice was hoarse like a wounded animal's as he dropped to his knees, shaking. He saw his reflection in the water and turned away from it. He couldn't bear to see himself after what he'd done to Christine.

Upstairs, hammering, sawing, and other sounds of construction had been going on for months. Now, there was silence, which could only mean one thing: the opera house was going to open again soon.

Erik thought for a moment. He could easily play dead; Madame Giry understood and would bring him food and provisions, but...

Besides playing his organ, there wasn't much else to do down here. Erik was pulled from his own pool of emotions that threatened to drown him by a small saving hand: it was still HIS home, HIS opera house, and it was still under HIS control.

Compelled by desperation and curiosity, Erik ran a comb through his hair until it regained its sleekness. He stripped out of his mussed clothes and resumed his all-black attire. He placed the white mask back on his face. With a swish of the cape, he was the Phantom once more.

A/N: I don't own "Angel of Music" obviously, but I did bend the lyrics to fit the story. Hope nobody minds! The melody is the exact same, though, and it's done just as Christine and Erik sang it in the movie.

Christine stood on the brand new stage. She was completely alone. Vaguely, she remembered the feeling she once had of Erik watching her. Despite being grateful that the whole affair was over, she couldn't help but miss him in a strange sort of way.

_"Angel of music,_

_where have you gone to? _

_are you gone for good?_

_Angel, I wish it had gone better_

_I'd make it so if I could..."_

Her voice sounded small on the new stage, but she'd only intended it to be a whisper. He could hear her, but she couldn't hear him where he whispered from the rebuilt Box 5.

_"I'm no longer your angel of music..._

_you have left me behind..._

_so just go back to your beloved suitor..._

_enjoy your new life..."_

Right on cue, Raoul joined Christine onstage.

"So, what do you think?" he asked her as she examined the surroundings. The new stage was much more elaborately done than the old one.

"It's beautiful. I can't wait until the others return-"

Suddenly, there was a bustle outside. Erik left his box and crept along the hidden paths in the ceiling. He was hidden inside a statue of a roaring lion and was watching through its mouth. The ballet rats and chorus girls had all come in at once, coachmen lugging suitcases behind them. Among them, he could see Meg and Carlotta.

Wait-

Carlotta!

Erik smacked his forehead. Carlotta wasn't supposed to come back! He made himself a mental note to do something to get rid of her.

"I didn't count on seeing you again, Madame," Raoul said, his tone a little too blunt.

"Well, Monsieur, I didn't count on coming back. I was informed that the damned phantom was killed, so he can no longer disturb me."

Erik smirked. Oh, this was funny. He chuckled quietly.

"Well, then," Raoul fumbled for words, "it's nice to have you back."

He looked as though he would vomit as he said the word "back". His face had paled and he'd swallowed hard. Erik shook his head.

_Always playing the part of the foppish gentleman, I see. Have I taught you nothing?_

Erik watched as everyone went to unpack.

**Present-Day California:**

"Come on, Squishie! We have to get going!" an impatient female voice yelled. It belonged to a slightly chubby woman of about twenty who was standing in the doorway of a messy apartment. Her curly honey-colored hair was falling in her pointy-chinned face and dark brown eyes and she was staggering under the weight of some suitcases.

A fluffy long-haired dog the color of wheat bread came tearing towards her. She had big dark eyes and was roughly the length of the woman's forearm. For such a small animal, however, she had an awful lot of energy. The dog's hair stuck out every which way, and she shook, making it stand up more.

"Goofy thing," Dawn muttered, shifting all the weight to one side to lock the door, "I sure hope you're not this energetic once we get going. It's a long way to Washington from where we are. And I don't think Dad likes dogs that much."

Squishie "whuffed" and ran around the car in circles, tail wagging. She loved riding in the small black car. Dawn tossed everything into the backseat with a sigh of relief. It was a red suitcase, a guitar and a portable amplifier, and a bag of dog food for Squishie. There was also a red backpack.

"Let's go." Dawn buckled her seatbelt and they left. She adjusted her black newsboy hat so that she could see better.

The weather was nice and sunny for about three and a half hours. "Living on a prayer" by Bon Jovi was playing on the radio and Dawn was bouncing up and down, singing. Squishie had her head out the window, enjoying her view from the passenger side. A storm loomed ahead, but neither dog nor girl noticed. Unfortunately, it was hard to see the road signs once the rain blew in.

"I think I missed a turn," Dawn commented. After driving down an unfamiliar maze of streets, Dawn sighed when she found herself on a two-lane highway. The rain was falling even harder and a strange mist had risen up. Dawn cursed her luck and tried to turn around.

"Of all the lousy luck!"

She screamed when a semi-truck came out of nowhere. The car had died. She unfastened her seatbelt, grabbed Squishie, and bailed out just as the truck barreled into her car. Dawn held Squishie with trembling hands as she watched an inferno of flames shoot up before she lost consciousness.

**Back at the Opera Populaire: **

Erik had grown bored with the ballet rats and was trying to come up with some way to heckle the managers when a chaos erupted by the entrance. Curiosity got the better of him and he went to take a closer look. A lot of whispering was going on. Raoul was carrying someone inside. He could see a black hat and a mass of curly blonde-brown hair. Beside Raoul, a little wheat-colored dog was running around and barking anxiously. Someone else was bringing in a suitcase and a guitar case and a colorful bag that crinkled like wrapping paper.

"We found her unconscious on the sidewalk," he explained to Madame Giry, "and her dog and her luggage. It looks as though she was traveling."

Without a word, Madame Giry motioned for them to follow her. They carried her upstairs to a spare room.

"Go fetch the doctor," she said, "she has a terrible bump on the back of her head."

No one said anything about the girl's strange manor of dress. She was wearing dark blue jeans (which they had never seen), tennis shoes that had retractable skating wheels, and a black and pink Hard-Rock Cafe T-shirt.

"Ohh..." Dawn groaned, raising a hand to block out the light.

It took a moment for the world to come into focus. Squishie kept showering her with dog kisses. Dawn gently pushed her away.

"Where am I?" she asked, dazed.

"You are at the Opera Populaire. Our patron found you unconscious on the sidewalk," Madame Giry told her, "the doctor will be coming soon to tend that bump on your head."

Dawn shook her head in disbelief. She'd recognized the name of the old opera house. And that meant...

She struggled to keep her surprise from showing. She'd somehow poofed into her favorite story.

"I guess I got lost, although how I ended up in Paris, I'll never know. This big storm came up."

Madame Giry looked concerned.

"We have not had a storm in Paris for quite some time, Mademoiselle."

Oops.

"The last thing I remember was a storm," Dawn admitted. She recognized Meg by her blonde hair. She was petting Squishie, who thoroughly enjoyed the attention she was getting.

The doctor had wasted no time in getting there. He checked Dawn's heart and lungs, then examined the bump.

"Well, the good news is I don't think you have a concussion," the doctor said, "put some ice on it and get some rest. If it doesn't feel better by tomorrow or you experience any strange symptoms, call me again."

He left without another word.

Dawn stared awkwardly at everyone else around her. How was she going to explain herself?

"I don't suppose you're looking for job," Raoul commented, "we lost quite a few workers when we had to close down the opera house for repairs."

"Well, yeah, I guess I need one now," Dawn admitted, butterflies in her stomach.

"Wonderful. I'm sure our managers can find a place for you."

They informed Dawn that she was going to be one of the opera house maids. Scrubbing floors didn't sound like a glamorous job, but it was better than nothing.

Finding herself left alone soon after, Dawn sighed and sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Man, Squishie, what are we going to do? No one would believe us if we tried to tell them we're from the future and we landed in a story."

The dog wagged her tail affectionately and nuzzled the suitcase.

"So, Squish, what do you think? Should we stay?"

"Arf!" Squishie agreed.

"All right," Dawn sighed, opening the suitcase, "I guess we're a fairy tale now."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A/N: Oops. Forgot the standard disclaimer. I don't own Erik, Christine, Meg, or the others OR the song. I only own Dawn and Squishie.

Chapter 2...Late Night Company

Dawn was awoken several hours earlier than she would have liked to have been by Christine.

"The managers have left you a map of the opera house and a list of all of the things they want you to do."

Dawn eyed the list and groaned, yanking the covers over her head.

"Why is it so long?" she asked, sounding like a child.

"We're a bit short-staffed," Christine said apologetically, "and we have to get the opera house up and running again."

Dawn sighed.

"All right."

Christine left her to get dressed. She yawned all through breakfast. The sun was just coming up when she got started. The opera house had seemed big before, but not nearly as big as it did now. Dawn stared at the miles and miles of floors to be scrubbed and almost passed out.

By the time she got done with the list, it was very, very late and everyone had gone to bed. She'd endured angry shouts from the managers because she hadn't worked fast enough and she was shaking because she hadn't eaten since breakfast.

"What a day," she complained to Squishie as she lay down on the bed, "no wonder nobody else wants to work here."

She closed her eyes and fell asleep fully clothed and didn't notice the familiar shape of the mask in the shadows.

The next morning wasn't any better. She had to run here and there, fetching this, cleaning that, delivering messages, ect... When she finally lay down on her bed, she slept as a dead woman did. Not even Squishie's wet kisses could revive her.

The next morning, Dawn was shaken awake by an irate Carlotta who demanded that she take her dogs for a walk. Dawn staggered out of bed, eyes glazed over from exhaustion, and took the leashes. She didn't even notice Carlotta yelling at her.

"There has to be a solution to this," Dawn said to herself as she let the dogs drag her down the sidewalk, "a way to go faster."

Then, she suddenly remembered. She had shoes in her suitcase that had retractable skating wheels. They were brand new because she never thought she'd use them. Grinning, she limped back to the opera house on aching legs and tried to keep Squishie from eating the two small poodles for breakfast.

After handing the poodles off to Carlotta, Dawn dashed back up to her room. She took off the ballet flats she wore and laced up the shoes.

"I guess it's time I do it my way," she said, dumping the contents of her backpack out on her bed. Then, she put the wheels down and took off down the hallway. Carlotta yelped and jumped out of the way as Dawn sped by. When Dawn came to the top of the stairs, she hopped on the banister and slid down it. When she landed, she fell on her butt.

"Ow!"

She had just pulled herself to her feet when the managers found her.

"Here," one of them snarled, "and get it ALL done today! We have rehearsal starting tomorrow!"

Dawn took the list and stuck her tongue out at their retreating backs.

"Yes sir, you big old fart!" she muttered.

"What was that?!" one of them demanded.

"I said I guess I should start," Dawn said, feigning innocence.

Erik, as usual, was watching. He stifled a snicker at this.

Squishie was wagging her tail as though she were laughing, too.

"Come on, Squish. I've only had two meals in two days and I won't make it if I don't eat something."

Two seconds later, Dawn and Squishie emerged from the kitchen. Squishie carried a scrap of meat in her jaws and Dawn had a piece of bread.

"Uh, let's see. Aww crap. Today's laundry day and I have to gather up EVERYTHING and take it to the ladies out back who do the wash. Counting Carlotta's stuff, that ought to keep me all day," Dawn thought aloud. Suddenly, the sound of paper rustling got her attention. A sealed envelope landed at Dawn's feet.

"Aww, boy. It's the local legend," Dawn said, turning it over to see the skull-shaped seal, "it's to the managers. Let's go give this to them first, then get started."

She took off.

"That damned opera ghost is back again! How in the Hell do we get rid of him! Carlotta's going to leave again!"

Dawn took off before they could open the letter.

"I have a feeling they won't like what they read," she told Squishie as she rolled away with lightning speed, "they're gonna blame it all on us if we don't hurry."

Dawn gathered up all the ballet costumes first, then all the bed clothes. She bagged them up and heaved them over her head so that they rolled all the way down the stairs. Then, with difficulty, she dragged them outside.

By midday, Dawn was sweating and badly in need of a drink of water. Squishie was panting from trying to keep up.

"I could use a break," Dawn huffed, going to the kitchen. A few moments later, she was chased out by an irate cook, but she clutched her prize in both hands: a glass of cold water. She drank half of it and slowly poured the rest of it into Squishie's mouth.

"All right. Let's go."

"DAWN!" a voice roared.

"Coming!" Dawn said exasperatedly. She tucked her wheels in so that she could climb the stairs.

Moments later, she was staggering under the weight of Carlotta's things. She was so off balance that she fell down the stairs.

"SH--!" Dawn swore as she rolled. She crashed right into the manager she'd been hoping to avoid. He quickly righted himself as Dawn lay sprawled at the bottom of the staircase.

"Ohh," she groaned, "I think I broke something."

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!" the manager roared.

"I mean I think I busted my butt," Dawn complained. She braced her hands against the tiled floor and pushed herself upright, wincing as something made a snapping sound.

"GET UP!"

Dawn was still looking a bit dazed. Ignoring the manager's tirade, she grabbed the lip of the cloth bag again and hauled it outside. She didn't see the other letter to fall although she heard an irritated exclamation.

Dawn's back pain did not improve. In fact, she was hurting all over by the time the day was over. And as consequence for having topped the manager, she was told she'd have to spend the night scrubbing the stage. Sighing, she didn't argue and told Squishie to stay in the room. On her way to retrieve the supplies, she heard Madame Giry arguing with the managers over the unfairness.

"I am sorry to hear that you're having such a hard time here," Christine said, handing Dawn an apple. Dawn wolfed it down gratefully.

"Thanks," she said, tossing the core in the garbage, "can't you tell them to lighten up on me just a little?"

"I'm afraid I can't, at least not yet. As long as I work here, I have to do as I'm told as well."

"Well, thanks anyway."

Dawn went off to work on the stage.

Erik was watching from the rafters as Dawn placed the oil lamp nearby so she could see. On her hands and knees, she scrubbed in small circles. Slowly, she began to hum. The humming gradually turned into words that she'd forever associate with this stage. She worked as fast as she could, wanting to get this done. It didn't take long for her to get a quarter of the stage done.

_Think of me,_

_think of me fondly _

_when we've said goodbye._

_Remember me,_

_once in a while,_

_please promise me you'll try..._

She didn't see the living shadow that slipped onto the stage and sat at the piano just behind the curtain. She did, however almost jump out of her skin as music began to play. She was sure, that this late at night, she'd have been alone. The person who was playing repeated the notes of the last line she sang, then paused as if telling her to continue. With growing boldness, she started over, this time with the mystery pianist backing her.

"_We never said_

_our love was evergreen_

_or as unchanging as the sea_

_but if you can still remember,_

_stop and think of me..."_

Memories flooded Erik's mind. It had been Christine's first major performance. But something penetrated those memories. Christine's voice had been rich and light, smooth as silk. This girl's voice, however, was strong and round like the rest of her. She did not have the same air of delicacy that most of the singers here did. In fact, she sounded as though she'd had no training whatsoever, but there was something about her just the same...

"_Think of all the things_

_we've shared and seen_

_don't think about all the things_

_that could have been..."_

She sang the lyrics slightly differently, too, but he didn't mind the changes she'd made. Her voice wasn't bewitching the same way Christine's had been, but there was such a frankness and honesty about her that intrigued Erik.

"_Think of me,_

_think of me waking_

_silent and resigned_

_imagine me,_

_trying too hard_

_to put you from my mind..."_

The evidence of surprise and fear had left her voice by now. She was scrubbing with vigor and there was a large area that she'd already done. She wouldn't take long to finish at this rate; he'd simply needed to distract her from her irritation.

"_Think of me,_

_please say you'll think of me_

_whatever else you choose to do_

_there will never be a day when_

_I...won't...think...of...you!_

As she sang the word "you", Dawn's voice rang through the theater. She sounded like determination, her voice thick and strong. He couldn't help but wonder where she'd heard this song before. Expecting the worst, he came to the end, slowing down just a little bit.

_Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade_

_they have their seasons, so do we,_

_but please promise me_

_that you will sometimes think...of...me..._

She didn't even try to hit the painfully high notes. Instead, she let her voice slide back down easily. He couldn't help but smile- at least she wasn't pulling a Carlotta.

Dawn stood up slowly, realizing the stage was done. She took the oil lamp.

"Hey! Thanks for keeping me company!" she called to the darkness before going back upstairs, limping badly.

He hoped that the managers would not assign her anything hard to do tomorrow. She was limping so badly she could hardly walk. He hoped they'd taken his letter seriously.

He decided to go check on her.

He slipped through one of the passages and emerged behind the mirror in Dawn's room. Sure she was asleep, he approached her carefully. The little dog, thankfully, did not notice him. He lifted the back of her shirt and was enraged when he saw the ugly dark bruises lining her back. No wonder she was limping so much.

He went back into the secret passage and thought on his way back to his home. Erik didn't have any obligations to this woman. He didn't owe anyone anything.

And yet...

Part of him longed to protect her the way he'd failed to protect Christine. She hadn't demanded to know who was playing the piano, she'd just been grateful for the company, knowing somehow she wasn't alone.

Dawn woke the next day when Meg brought her a breakfast tray.

"Isn't this a bit much for a maid?" Dawn asked.

"The Opera Ghost told the managers to give you time off so that your back could heal," Meg said, "and he demanded that we treat you as one of us. We tried to tell them, but they wouldn't listen until the Opera Ghost wrote to them."

"Thanks," Dawn said gratefully. She was surprised to find that she was starving.

"He seems to have taken an interest in you," Meg commented, "but be careful; he's very temperamental at times."

"I heard," Dawn said around a mouthful.

As soon as she finished eating, Dawn went right back to sleep and didn't move until it was time for dinner. During this time, she'd begun to feel a little bit better. Someone sent up cold compresses for it and by that evening, she could move much better. The bruises would eventually fade, but at least the pain wasn't so severe.

"I gotta remember to thank him," Dawn said, stroking Squishie's head that evening, "otherwise, I'd be screwed right now."

She turned the light off and went to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chapter 3...The Angel of Music Pays A Visit

Dawn went back to work without complaint with the insistence of the managers, whom she later learned were Andre and Firmin. She preferred to call them "dumb and dumber" under her breath as long as nobody heard her.

About two weeks had gone by since she'd returned to work and she'd gotten a routine down. She also knew exactly where everyone would be down to the almost exact moment and learned to dodge them.

"Watch this," Dawn told Squishie, "ready?"

Squishie, who took up residence in Dawn's backpack during her chore-time after getting lost twice, "arf-ed" and they took off.

"Manager," Dawn muttered. A split second later, one of them (she still failed to remember which was which) appeared.

"List," Dawn mumbled. He didn't hear her, but he held up the paper and she took it wordlessly.

"Carlotta," Dawn told the dog. An instant later, the two poodles appeared in Dawn's arms.

"Rant."

She heard Carlotta's furious shouting at someone as she sped down the hall.

"Madame Giry."

She waved to the older woman just as she came out of the door.

"Stairs."

Dawn hopped on the banister and slid down, landing smoothly.

"Raoul."

Raoul appeared, calling a greeting to her as she flew past him. She waved back, shifting the poodles to one arm.

"Door."

She pushed the door open and Dawn allowed all of the dogs to go for a walk. She was careful not to let Squishie try to eat the poodles. Then, Squishie went back into her backpack and Dawn went back to the opera house.

"Carlotta again," Dawn said just before the over-dressed singer snatched the dogs out of her hands and swapped it with a list of things she wanted from town. She sped off and returned with cloth shopping bags full of things.

"Managers throwing a fit," she said to the dog as she exited Carlotta's room. Sure enough, Andre and Firmin were howling in protest over something. She hadn't been there to deliver any letters, so Madame Giry had given it to them.

"As usual, our resident Phantom's got a twist in is cape over something," Dawn commented, "figures. Okay, left turn. Don't kill the cook."

She banked left and narrowly avoided the cook, who was, as usual, in a bad mood.

"Breakfast."

Dawn circled the counter and snatched a pastry and a scrap of bacon for Squishie. She scrolled through the list and avoided Andre and Firmin without even looking up.

"Wait!"

She stopped.

"We need these things from the prop room," one of them said, stuffing another list into her hand. Dawn shrugged and took off.

"Three...two...one..." Dawn mumbled.

"And hurry it up!" A shout followed her as she tucked her wheels back in so she could get up the stairs.

Dawn finished off the list within a couple of hours, then wheeled herself down to the first cellar level to the prop room. She gathered up everything she could carry, then made a mental note to ask one of the stage hands to help her with the other stuff when she heard a noise behind her. Squishie started barking and tried to get out of the backpack.

"Squishie! Hush!" Dawn snapped, trying to hear. She thought she saw a flash of white, but figured she was mistaken. Then, she wheeled back out of the room.

Erik breathed a sigh of relief as he peered out from behind a makeshift staircase. She'd ALMOST caught him. He cursed himself in his thoughts. He had to get it together, he was losing his touch.

He watched Dawn's reaction when her dog started barking. Her face had paled and her dark eyes scanned the room rapidly. She seemed to be more startled by her dog than him having accidentally knocked over something. In the dark, he hadn't noticed what it was.

She rolled down the corridor and to the stage. Someone snatched the props out of her arms and two of the stage hands grabbed the list to fetch the rest of the items. Carlotta was shouting at someone to help her with her costume and no one else was responding because things were kind of chaotic. Dawn hurried over to her.

Carlotta insisted on hiding her slightly pudgy figure by having Dawn pull the corset strings as far as they would possibly go. When red started appearing on Carlotta's cheeks, she figured she'd pulled enough and tied them securely.

Erik watched from above the rafters. He smirked, watching Dawn try to stuff an overweight Carlotta into her corset. Carlotta winced when Dawn gave a rather hard tug on the strings.

_One too many chocolates, Madame?_

Dawn raced around below.

"Where is Christine?" someone demanded.

"She is not here today. She is ill," Madame Giry responded.

Erik crouched on the rafters and watched from above. The rehearsal was an absolute disaster. No one knew where they were supposed to be at what time. A couple of the ballerinas kept crashing into each other. Half of the props that were too heavy for Dawn to carry were still not there. As usual, Carlotta was horrible, and the conductor put earplugs in about halfway through. Madame Giry was shouting through the din at the ballerinas, reminding them what they were supposed to do when, but it was hard to hear over Carlotta's screeching. While Dawn was busy helping one of the fallen ballerina's up, there was a retching sound and her dog threw up on the stage. Carlotta's assistant was tearing across the stage, stepped in it, and slipped, landing hard on his knees. Dawn put her hands over her face and shook her head.

"Come here, Squishie."

Dawn picked her up, sighing. Finally, Erik had seen enough. He loosened one of the backdrops as Carlotta pranced underneath it. It shook for a moment before falling on her. Instantly, the whole stage silenced. Squishie wriggled out of Dawn's arms.

"Thanks," Dawn said, barely audible.

_You are most welcome,_ he thought.

"That's it! I QUIT!" Carlotta shouted. Squishie trotted over to Carlotta and sniffed at her, wagging her tail.

"Get away from me, you little toad!" Carlotta snapped. Keeping her best profile towards her face, Squishie relieved herself inches away from Carlotta's nose and ran off. Dawn clapped both hands over her mouth and shook with silent laughter. Carlotta jumped up and chased after the dog. She caught Squishie by her collar.

"Now, you little mutt! You will PAY!"

Dawn snatched Squishie out of her grasp.

"Don't touch my dog!" Dawn snapped.

The two women shouted at each other until another backdrop fell. A letter fluttered towards Madame Giry, falling just in front of her face. She caught it effortlessly as though she'd been expecting it. As usual, she was the picture of calm in the storm.

"Another letter from that blasted Phantom!" one of the managers shouted.

"He requests that Madame Carlotta not sing in this opera," she said calmly, "and that she leaves at once. He insists that she is much past her prime. Also, salary is due. And..."

Madame Giry's composure slipped for a moment. She reread the last line three times to herself before reading it aloud.

"And WHAT, dare I ask!" Andre shouted.

"...that Mademoiselle Dawn take over Carlotta's part while Christine is ill. If Christine does not get better by tomorrow, Dawn will be singing in the opera."

Dawn suddenly went pale and sat down quickly, Squishie jumping into her lap. All the while, the tawny dog growled at Carlotta, who glared at her.

"She's a maid!" Firmin shouted, "She can't sing!"

Dawn flushed scarlet.

"We do not know that," Madame Giry said calmly. She walked over to Dawn and scratched Squishie behind the ears. Dawn looked up at her.

"Why don't you sing something for us?" she asked.

"I-I can't," Dawn stuttered, "I get stage fright."

But something in Madame Giry's eyes said that her excuses wouldn't work. Sighing, she put Squishie down and trudged over to where the man playing the piano was. She said something to him, but he shook his head. Dawn sighed discontentedly. She didn't know any songs that they knew, so she tried to conjure up one of her better ones. When she did start singing, her voice squeaked roughly. Dawn cleared her throat and continued, pretending she was in her own room and not with a flushed face from everyone staring at her. Gradually, the piano joined her as she sang "My Immortal" by Evanescence. By the time she allowed herself to come back to reality, everyone was staring at her, open-mouthed. Carlotta looked furious.

Erik sat back on one of the rafters and gave a satisfied nod. Yes, that was the solution. He made a mental note to talk to Madame Giry later about giving Dawn lessons.

But...

_What if history repeats itself_, he wondered, _what if she..._

No. He shook that thought out of his head. He was not going to get personally involved with Dawn. He was only going to give her lessons for the sake of making the opera go perfect. He simply HAD to do something about her timid squeaking; that would never do!

The piano player handed her a copy of the sheet music. Erik was surprised to learn that she could at least read sheet music even if she was a tiny bit off-pitch in places. He began to play and Dawn began to sing. Behind her, the rehearsal began to pick back up. Erik moved to another part of the rafters while the stage hands put the backdrops back in place. Strangely enough, things went a bit more smoothly. Only minor things happened and someone cleaned up after Squishie, who was now perched dutifully beside Dawn as she tried to sing through the song.

Madame Giry also insisted on teaching Dawn how to dance.

"I don't know about this," Dawn called from behind the screen.

"Come! We are wasting time!" Madame called.

Dawn timidly emerged from the screen. They were in the ballet practice room. Erik was watching from behind one of the mirrors.

Poor Dawn. She was very self-conscious in the extremely tight clothes. She wasn't lithe and petite-built as the other girls were, but curvy and soft. Her belly stuck out plumply in the leotard and the tutu wasn't quite long enough to cover her thighs. She tried to smooth it over, but it didn't work. The costume also didn't quite have enough room in it for someone of Dawn's...endowment, and the curves strained against the fabric. She walked on her heels rather than on the balls of her feet and her messy curly hair fell out of the ponytail she'd pulled it in.

"I look ridiculous," Dawn huffed, "like a fat little cupcake!"

At the crack of the door, some of the girls chuckled. Madame kicked the door closed without batting an eyelash.

"Now. We will warm up with some stretches and I will teach you the basic positions."

Ballet dancing definitely wasn't Dawn's thing at all. She wasn't graceful and fell almost everytime she tried to stand on her toes. The satin slippers were slick against the wooden floor and she had a very hard time getting traction. Madame was patient, but Dawn wasn't. Everything was supposed to be quick and graceful, but Dawn was slow, clumsy, and inexperienced. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead and her lips pursed as she got more and more aggravated. It seemed, that by the end of the lesson (which had been a good two hours), they had accomplished very little.

"I can't get this!" Dawn howled in frustration as she peeled herself off of the floor for the hundredth time.

"That is enough for today," Madame Giry said calmly, "you must remember that you have just begun."

Dawn sighed, gripping the bar so hard that her knuckles turned white.

"Why don't you go get cleaned up? It will be time for dinner soon."

Everything in her body ached. Madame watched as Dawn limped away, struggling to move.

"You can come out now, Erik," she said knowingly when Dawn closed the door behind her.

The mirror slid back, revealing him.

"How did you know?" he wondered out loud.

"I have known you for many years," Madame said, "you are as good as my son."

Erik only grunted in response.

Dawn didn't hear them talking as she limped her way to her room.

"I'm not cut out for this crap, Squishie," she lamented, stripping off the costume. She grabbed a rag, dipped it in cold water, and gave herself a sponge bath.

"I'm not even hungry," Dawn said, "but I know I have to eat."

She pulled a dress that Meg had left for her over her head and began to brush her hair out.

"_Chance for you to have come here,_

_pity to waste it as a maid,_

_why should you want to hide there always_

_when you could rule the stage?"_

Dawn let out a shriek of surprise and her hairbrush clattered to the floor. Heart pounding, she looked all around, but could see no one. Very nervous, she responded:

"_Who in God's name is singing?_

_Are the stories that I've heard true?_

_The man that stays in the shadows,_

_could that be you?"_

Erik cringed, but did not run. She still hadn't figured out the mirror thing.

"_I am your angel of music..."_

Dawn quickly braided her hair, obviously ready to bolt.

"_I am your angel of music..."_ he repeated.

It seemed to relax her a little.

"_Angel of music,_

_what happened to you?_

_Do you realize I know_

_your story?_

_I know of a man who _

_wears a mask..._

_could you be the one_

_I'm hearing?"_

Silence.

"Crap," she complained to the dog, who was laying on the bed, "I scared him off."

She was also surprised that she was singing to communicate something. Shaking her head, she figured the least she could do was go along with the game.

"_Angel, don't be afraid my knowledge,_

(jokingly)_ I couldn't run if I tried..._

(serious again)_ I don't care about appearance,_

_so please don't hide..."_

Erik debated on stepping through the mirror, but decided against it. Someone knocked on the door and Squishie began to bark.

"Dinner time!" Meg's voice called.

"Just a second!" Dawn yelled. She spared one more glance around the room.

"_I wish I could know you in person,_

_I don't know what to say_

_I hoped I'd run into you sometime_

_didn't think it would be this way!"_

Dawn left the room, Squishie on her heels.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Chapter 4...Sweet Dreams

The weeks went by. Dawn and Meg became fast friends and she was even starting to talk to Christine a little. Erik wasn't sure why, but that made him kind of nervous.

Dawn, it would turn out, was full of surprises.

After yet another relatively unsuccessful practice with Madame Giry, Dawn went upstairs and came back down with something in her backpack. Squishie ran along beside her.

"At least I've gotten where I'm not so sore," Dawn told Squishie, "dancing is pretty good exercise."

She had lost a little weight, but not enough to really matter. She removed her iPod from her backpack and plugged it into the portable speakers. Then, she said "I might as well do something fun before Andre and Firmin find me."

She pressed play. Erik appeared behind one of the mirrors, but she wasn't facing him, therefore she couldn't see him.

One of her favorite songs came on. It was a mixture of "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics and "Die Another Day" by Madonna. One of her friends had made it for her when she was still in California. The haunting techno-beat pulsed through the room. Dawn began to move like she'd often seen modern dancers do at home.

Erik couldn't help but stare. Instead of the traditional arm-and-leg movements that ballet taught, her dance focused on her hips and stomach. She didn't have the grace of Meg or Christine, but Dawn mixed with the strange music was hypnotic. He'd seen her play with that strange music box in her room, but she'd never taken it anywhere else before.

_"Sweet dreams are made of this,_

_who am I to disagree?_

_I've traveled the world_

_and the seven seas,_

_everybody is looking for something."_

Dawn's movements pulsed with the beat. Erik was surprised that his heart was beating in rhythm with everything else.

_"Some of them want to use you,_

_some of them want to be used by you_

_some of them want to abuse you_

_some of them want to be abused,"_

How true those words were. Erik was feeling decidedly intoxicated and he hadn't even been drinking. He mentally shook himself. Then, the singers changed and Dawn sang along with her. Erik wondered if the music box was more like a record player than a music box.

_"I'm gonna break the cycle,_

_I'm gonna shake up the system._

_I'm gonna destroy my ego._

_I'm gonna close my body now."_

She began to move more seductively. It was clear that she thought no one was watching; she'd have never danced like that in public. What was considered normal in Dawn's time was definitely taboo here. As the music sped up a little more, she began to mix the ballet with other forms of dance that she knew about but had not tried before. The ballet had made her much more limber and she could move in ways she'd never thought possible.

_"For every sin, I'll have to pay,_

_I've come to work, I've come to pay,_

_I think I'll find another way_

_It's not my time to go."_

Madame Giry appeared in the doorway, watching with surprise written all over her face. She stayed silent, watching. Dawn didn't notice her, either. Squishie sat in one of the chairs, watching Dawn. The "Sweet Dreams" chorus repeated itself again. Squishie got up from the chair and chased after Dawn, trying to scratch on her leg with her front paws. But Dawn stayed just out of reach, causing the dog to chase her that way. It looked as though Squishie were dancing, too.

_"I'm gonna avoid the cliché,_

_I'm gonna suspect my senses,_

_I'm gonna delay my pleasure_

_I'm gonna close my body now."_

She picked up Squishie and spun her around in the air before kissing her on top of the head and putting her down.

_"I think I'll find another way,_

_there's so much more to know_

_I guess I'll die another day,_

_it's not my time to go."_

Dawn began to move more when the instrumental break came along when she didn't have to worry about being able to breathe calmly. For being a "fat little cupcake", as she called herself, she could move much better than she gave herself credit for. She'd never be Christine or Meg, but Dawn was at least acceptable now.

_"Sweet dreams are made of this_

_(I think I'll find another way)_

_Who am I to disagree?_

_(there's so much more to know)_

_I've traveled the world and the seven seas_

_(I guess I'll die another day)_

_Everybody is looking for something_

_(It's not my time to go)._

Dawn shut off the iPod and breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was fun!" she told her dog. The tell-tale thump of Madame Giry's cane told her she wasn't alone.

"How long have you been there?" Dawn asked her.

"Long enough," Madame replied.

"I suppose you want to know why I can't do that when anyone else is around," Dawn read her thoughts.

"I do."

Dawn sighed.

"The truth?"

She nodded.

"I have terrible stage fright. I once had to do a school solo and I threw up all over the stage. Then, I tried to do dancing and I got my foot caught on some stage equipment and I fell in front of everyone. No one's let me forget what a klutz I am," Dawn admitted, "and I was just goofing off just now. I was trying so hard to remember the moves that I keep getting behind."

Stage fright, huh? Erik remembered that Christine had once had the same problem. He tried to remember what it was he'd done to get her over it.

"Stop trying so hard to remember," Madame told her, "you think too much. Your legs and arms know what to do if you would only let them. I want you do what you just did again."

Dawn swallowed hard.

"I can try, but no guarantees," she said meekly. Squishie barked at her.

"Okay, okay! Have some patience!" she told the dog as she pressed play.

The next morning's practice was torture. Madame Giry seemed determined to incorporate Dawn into the chorus girls by the next opera. She claimed that if Dawn didn't make it into this opera, it would at least be good practice for her. Dawn couldn't understand her reasoning, but didn't bother questioning her. Christine still had a cold and didn't sound that great because she'd start coughing right in the middle of things. Carlotta really sounded horrible and the conductor had plugged his ears with something before resuming his duties with an air of detachment. When it was finally over, Dawn dropped to the stage, sitting cross-legged. The cool stage felt good under her legs and the palms of her hands. Everyone else had gone out of the room except for Madame Giry giving one of the other girls tips. She'd asked Dawn to stay for a moment, which Dawn was dreading.

Erik, as usual, had been in his box 5. After practice, he decided to heckle some of the stage-hands because they were getting drunk again. Most of them had felt it coming and high-tailed it out of there. One of the stage hands was snoring loudly on his platform. Erik was about to go after him when the dangerous, inevitable thing happened. He was so determined to make that lazy man pay for neglecting his duties that he got careless. He wasn't sure how he lost his balance, or why, but all he knew was that he was suddenly clutching at empty air with his cloak swirling around him. For a split second, he wondered if he was dead. Then, he collided with the stage and hard, harsh, painful reality set in. A sharp pain radiating up and down his left arm alarmed him slightly and his mask was askew. He straightened it, heart pounding. Who had seen?

It was then that the blurred world came into view. Dawn was crouched mere inches away from him; she'd dodged out of the way. Their eyes locked as he sat up.

Erik's eyes were, as several accounts gave, a unique shade of hazel that turned colors, she guessed, according to his mood. And they had all been right; his gaze was burning, scorching even. His sleek dark brown hair had mussed slightly during the fall. His skin was not "yellow as parchment" as some accounts said, but ashen white from lack of sun exposure. His mask covered the right side of his face as the accounts had said, and was gleaming white. He wore the same all-black attire she'd read so much about. And right now, his eyes were a pale-green like a cat's eyes, cold and calculating, waiting on her response.

She stood. Slowly, she offered her trembling hand to him. His leather-gloved one grasped hers with surprising strength, almost too tightly for comfort. She hauled him to his feet. Madame Giry had come tearing up the aisle only to stop short when she saw Dawn and Erik together. She waited to see what Dawn would do.

"Let me see," Dawn said firmly, breaking the silence. Erik didn't even realize he'd been clutching his arm and trying to ward off an expression of pain. Dumbfounded by her firmness, Erik let her poke and prod her way around his shoulder and down his arm. She didn't elicit any reaction from him until she reached his wrist. He hissed and pulled away.

"Sorry," she apologized, taking his wrist in her hands again. She handled him much more gently this time, removing the glove and peeling back the sleeve of his shirt.

"Well, the good news is that it's not broken," Dawn diagnosed, "but you did sprain it pretty good and I would put ice on it to keep the swelling down and give it two or three days' worth of rest so it will heal right."

She turned to ask Madame to get the ice, but Madame had already gone to get it.

"RAWRAWRAWRRAWRAWRAWR!" Squishie barked fiercely, running towards Erik. Dawn snatched her up before she could try and take a chunk out of his leg.

"Squishie! Quiet!" Dawn said sharply. Squishie made a strange noise between a growl and a whine. Erik could swear that the dog was trying to kill him with her eyes.

"Enough!" Dawn said firmly. The dog made a huffing noise, but stopped growling and barking. Dawn set her down on the stage and pointed to a spot nearby. Squishie went to where her finger was pointing.

"Stay!" she said firmly.

Erik was surprised to hear so much authority in her voice.

"You'll have to excuse her," Dawn explained, "my ex-boyfriend didn't like dogs. Long story short, he didn't treat her good and now she thinks all men are evil."

_Why in the Hell did I tell him that? I finally meet the legendary opera ghost and I whine about past relationships! Smooth, kid, real smooth!_

Dawn stopped mentally berating herself when Madame Giry came back with the ice. There were two golf-ball sized chunks in her hands. Dawn unwrapped the blue bandana that she'd used to keep her bangs out of her face. Then, she shook it out, refolded it, and tied it around Erik's hand bandage-fashion, using it to protect the surface of the skin from direct contact with the ice and to hold it in place. She tucked the ends in neatly.

"There you go, sir. I'd be careful with it for a few days," Dawn instructed him, "and I'd keep ice on it to keep it from swelling."

Unable to find words to inspire, intimidate, or whatever else he could do to Dawn, he simply stuttered a "thank you," to Dawn and left.

She and Madame Giry exchanged puzzled looks.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks to my three loyal reviewers

A/N: Thanks to my three loyal reviewers! (Angelic-Reader, Amaris1, and Meadowlark's Songs)

Meadowlark's Songs: So sorry to hear about your dog. Squishie is actually my dog in real life; she is a cross between a poodle, terrier, and schnauzer. I will try to figure out a way to post pictures on here.

Amaris1: You can thank my class load for slow updates (note to self: no online classes next semester due to heavy homework loads).

Angelic-Reader: Hooked, huh? YAAAY (turns to yell over shoulder) "ERIK! We've got an addict!"

Erik: (sarcastically) "Wonderful." (goes back to playing the organ in an irritated manner while I peck at my keyboard).

Yeah, he's not a man of many words. That would explain why he doesn't have much to say to Dawn.

(dodges a book being thrown) "Back to the story, then."

Chapter 5

He didn't stop moving until he'd reached his lair. The candles around him guttered uncertainly; they seemed to sense his mood. The truth is, he didn't know what to feel. Erik's skin shone softly with perspiration and his cheeks had reddened slightly from the heat. He removed his mask and grabbed some nearby sheet music to fan himself with. The encounter had definitely NOT been expected. He had hoped, at least, to make Dawn a bit nervous so that she would keep her distance. Instead, he'd gotten careless and ended up foolishly on his back like an overturned turtle. Embarrassment was not something Erik felt often, but when it did, it scorched through his blood so hotly that it flushed his face and made him sweat nervously. His insides squirmed at what had just happened; his comfort zone of shadows and seeming invulnerability had just been yanked out from under him.

He paused at the water's edge to dip his good hand into it. The water, as always, was icy, but it felt good on his burning skin. He'd removed the gloves when he'd first gotten back.

For a moment, Erik stared down at his own reflection. Not at his face, which he usually stared at, but at the bright blue piece of cloth on his hand. There were tiny designs on it, but he couldn't figure out what they were. A strange scent caught his attention and he brought his wrist to his nose. It was a strangely sweet smell; almost like flowers but with a darker, richer undertone. He was disgusted with most women's perfumes because they were much too strong and gave him a horrible headache, but this...oh, this was different! He wondered if Dawn smelled this good all the time.

Erik found his favorite beat-up old armchair and settled into it, recapping all that had just occurred. When he'd fallen, Dawn's first reaction had been surprise, but not fear. She'd helped him up and her eyes had never once traveled to the mask he wore, but straight to his eyes. Eyes that were now a stormy gray as he thought this over. She'd been worried about him being hurt and wouldn't allow him to run away or try and intimidate her. Not many people could accomplish that.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't yet eaten. Taking sporadic bites out of a green apple, he paced around, considering his next move. Absently, he tossed the core over his shoulder into a waste bin.

Suddenly, he was very, very tired.

The whole place was in a constant orange-yellow glow due to his candles, so the only other colors besides orange-yellow were the black from the gauzy curtain surrounding the bed and the deep blood color of the sheets and pillows.

He stared at the bed for a moment. He'd made it to be inviting, but he didn't spend much time here. The coffin had definitely lost its appeal after the fire and it had been hacked to pieces by the mob anyway. Maybe it was for the best...

Erik stretched out on the swan bed, suddenly treasuring its softness in a way he never had before. Once upon a time, these sheets had smelled of Christine. Now, nearly a year after this mess, her scent had long gone, having been replaced by his tears, his own longings, hopes, dreams, and desires. However, the scent still clinging to the bandana blotted out the shattered remains of his past.

Funny.

Erik would have laughed if he hadn't been half-asleep. He vowed he'd never let the pain of Christine's memory be forgotten. And yet, here he was thinking about another woman.

Dawn. Funny.

She was not long and lithe like Christine was, but short, extremely curvy, and solidly built. Christine's voice had an angel's lilt to it, Dawn's had a strange frankness and honesty about it. Christine had been shy, yes, but with proper manners. Dawn alternated between shy and bold, both coming in odd, random spurts. One moment, Dawn was lamenting her stage fright to Madame Giry, the next, (and yes, he'd actually heard her do this!) giving Andre and Firmin a piece of her mind about making her be Carlotta's slave a-hem personal assistant for a week while the original had been out with a cold.

She also didn't have Christine's beauty, either. Christine had the soft chestnut locks, the large doe-eyes, and air of purity about her. Dawn had frizzy blonde curls that couldn't be tamed with any brush out there. Her eyes were almost black, hardly a color worthy of a song lyric (although he debated it and realized not many songs spoke of dark eyes). Her mouth seemed too small for her larger, pointy chin and tiny upturned nose. She had odd freckles on her arms and a strange birthmark on the lower front part of her shoulder that looked like a smear of brown paint about a quarter's size.

And yet...

Erik felt himself strangely drawn to her. She alternated between fire-breathing dragon and stumbling, clumsy kitten. She had unusual habits and behaviors, all of which made him curious.

He woke from a dream about Dawn a few hours later when he could have sworn he had not fallen asleep. Gathering his thoughts, he marched straight to his organ and began to compose. The melody was an odd one, unsure-sounding, curious, sometimes reckless and clumsy, slowly pulling itself together in chord sequences that he would never have guessed went together but did. Here, he realized, he had Dawn's essence written out in musical notes.

Dawn sighed contently as she lounged back in the tub of warm water in the wash room. So many thoughts were winding through her head right now: that Erik was real and that she'd just met him. So, what did he want with her? Why was he making sure that the managers didn't overtax her? Why was he acting interested in making her a chorus girl? Why did he seem interested in her at all? She was no Christine, that was for sure!

Dawn scrubbed away the sweat of rehearsal and her skin tingled pleasantly.

"Don't be silly," she scolded herself, "you read too much into everything."

But the shadow of doubt lingered. She dried herself off and pulled on her nightgown and robe. She sponged her wet hair with the towel to keep it from dripping and brushed it out. Squishie, also having had a bath, walked beside her looking extra-poofy as she dried.

Dawn slid beneath her covers. It was cold tonight and she had no interest in taking her covers off. Then, her stomach rumbled and she realized she hadn't eaten much all day. Maybe there was some stew left over in the kitchen. Even a cup of hot tea would satisfy the craving until morning. Shivering, Dawn got back up, motioning Squishie to follow her. She didn't want to go by herself and she prayed that she wouldn't get in any trouble. It was dangerous to be wandering around at night; some of the stage hands got a little drunk and did stupid things. She stayed in the shadows, being careful.

The kitchen was empty and Dawn raided the leftovers, feeding Squishie as well. As soon as they'd both eaten their fill, Dawn and Squishie were in the process of making their way back upstairs.

"Hey, love," a taunting voice said behind her. Dawn cringed, moving faster, but an arm snaked around her waist. She could smell alcohol on the person's breath.

"Let go!" she said firmly. Squishie growled at the man. He kicked Squishie in the head, dazing her. Dawn gave him a fierce punch in the jaw.

"Don't touch my dog!" Dawn snarled, scooping Squishie up and running. The man chased after her. Dawn was beginning to get winded because of her full stomach and a sharp knife-like pain embedded itself in her side. She couldn't keep running and dropped to her knees, ready to throw up but trying not to. Squishie seemed to recognize someone or something and skittered out of sight. Dawn had never felt so alone in that split second. However, she heard a strange choking sound behind her. She couldn't conjure up enough energy to turn around, knowing she would see something horrible. A sickening THUMP! confirmed her suspicions. She struggled to regain control over her ragged breath and to keep the bile from rising any farther into her throat. Squishie came back, whining and scratching at her with her front paws to get her attention.

A hand on her shoulder made Dawn yank away sharply. She went to strike at whoever dared touch her, but the other hand seized her wrist, arresting it. She recognized the feel of leather against her skin instantly.

"Oh, it's you," she panted, "I thought it was that other guy chasing me."

She relaxed and he released his vice-like grip on her, sliding his hand around until it was holding hers and he helped her up. In the dark, she could make out the pale mask that almost seemed to glow. The other half of his face was cast in shadow, so she couldn't really see what he was thinking.

"Where did-" she started to ask about the drunken stage hand and turn around, but a gloved hand on her cheek kept her from turning her head. It answered her question immediately. Dawn's heart began to pound.

_Uh-oh._

She didn't ask because she figured it out. Erik had killed him. Cringing, she started to walk back to her room, Erik walking beside her. She picked Squishie back up and held her against her shoulder. Once irritable towards the human shadow, Squishie seemed to understand that Erik had saved Dawn's virtue and perhaps her life. She wagged her tail and strained towards Erik. The tips of his gloved fingers caressed the top of her head. Erik didn't much care for people, but he was quite fond of animals.

They reached Dawn's room sooner than Dawn expected to. Relieved, she stepped aside to let Erik in. Warm orange candlelight contrasted with the relative blackness of the hallway. Dawn inspected Squishie's head to make sure she wasn't hurt. She wasn't.

"Poor Squishie," Dawn cooed, kissing her on the spot where the man had kicked her. Squishie, of course, was eating the attention up. She looked up at Erik, who stood motionless and silent in front of her. In reality, he was about six inches taller, but he seemed to tower over her for miles right now.

"Thanks for, uh, back there," Dawn struggled to find the right words, "didn't think it was a big deal to make a trip to the kitchen. Guess I was wrong."

She saw his expression turn to something like mild amusement.

"I have never seen a woman knock a man over," he said with interest, "you act as though you fight all the time."

Dawn flushed, but he couldn't see it

"Well, things are a little different in California. I grew up in the slums," she said, staring at the top of Squishie's head, "which is the bad part of town. It's where all the undesirables live. Mom and I didn't have much money. You learn really quick how to defend yourself because you have guys trying to grab you from all around in places like that. A walk to school and back was a battlefield. And Squishie's the only true friend I've had for a while. I found her when she was a puppy. Some guy thought it would be funny to try and feed her to a big dog. I punched him in the gut and called him some colorful things and took her home with me. I thought she was the ugliest thing I ever did see, big body, big head, small limbs, hair missing, and really loud, shrill bark, but she accepted all of my shortcomings and I accepted hers. She got better, got bigger, the hair grew back, and everything was great. Then, Mom just disappeared one day and it's been Squishie and I against the world ever since."

It explained a great deal to him. Strangely enough, he could relate to her story. He didn't realize he'd sat down until he realized he was in the chair beside her bed.

"Is your dog all right?" he asked.

"I think so. She's probably sore, but I don't think anything else happened," Dawn said, examining Squishie. Squishie seemed okay for the time being. Squishie looked at Erik, then did something Dawn didn't expect: she jumped into Erik's lap. Erik was surprised, but didn't seem to mind. He scratched her gently behind the ears and Squishie's tail wagged rapidly.

"She likes you," Dawn commented, "that's a first. Raoul can't even get near her without her trying to take a chunk out of his leg."

"Good dog," Erik commented, making Dawn dissolve into laughter.

He felt himself grinning. Dawn's laugh was so LOUD, but it was contagious.

Dawn recovered, wiping a tear from her cheek.

"I wish I could sick her on Carlotta," Dawn commented, "now THAT would be funny."

Squishie "whuffed" in agreement. Suddenly, a scream came from downstairs.

"Uh-oh," Dawn commented, "mirror time."

She was right. Erik handed Squishie back to her and slid behind the mirror-door. Upon closing it, Meg burst into the room, her eyes full of tears.

"Dawn! Oh, it's just awful! One of the stage hands was killed! You didn't hear anything, did you?"

"No," Dawn lied smoothly, "Squish and I were just up here getting ready for bed."

Dawn glanced backwards at the mirror, but the white mask did not show through. He had probably left for his own good.

Breakfast was a decidedly dismal affair. Whispers and rumors circulated about the Opera Ghost. Dawn was even included in some of them, much to her chagrin. She ignored them as best as she could and went about her duties.

Andre and Firmin seemed more determined than ever to keep her busy. When she would finish one chore, the two of them would almost magically show up and give her two more. It seemed that Dawn would never get everything done. She halfway understood, though, because opening night was coming up on them rapidly. It didn't stop her from being severely frustrated, however.

Carlotta, as usual, was terrible. She hadn't improved one bit since rehearsal began and everyone was at their wit's end. Brooding in his usual box, Erik suddenly had an idea. Moments later, a note was dropped on the stage.

_To my fumbling managers:_

_It is quite obvious that Carlotta does not suit the part of the kindly stepmother well enough. Her acting has not improved and neither has her singing. Put her in one of the silent roles and replace her with Mademoiselle Dawn by opening night or suffer dire consequences. Also, you are to strictly enforce the rules about getting drunk...someone else could get hurt. I'm sure you understand._

_Your humble servant,_

_O.G._

Carlotta was furious at this news. Dawn wasn't present because she had gone to get yet another box of chocolates that Carlotta insisted on having from town. Christine did not comment, pretending that she was helping Meg with her costume. Madame Giry was the one reading the letter out loud and seemed completely unsurprised. The whole orchestra pit and the conductor breathed a sigh of relief. The ballet corps smiled.

The door opened and Dawn rolled up the aisles, her skate-shoes on again. She held up the box.

"I got it!" she said, holding it out to Carlotta. Carlotta cursed at her and stomped off the stage.

"Huh?" Dawn looked puzzled. The ballet girls laughed.

"More for us, then," Dawn said, tearing off the lid. Within seconds, she was surrounded by hands grabbing the treats out of the box.

While they were all gobbling down the chocolate, Madame Giry approached Dawn and told her of the letter. Dawn swallowed at the wrong time and began coughing violently. As soon as she recovered, she reddened considerably.

"Me? I don't know anything about operas!" Dawn squeaked.

Christine emerged out of the crowd on her other side.

"Then, you must try," Christine told her in a pleading voice, "please try."

Everyone stared at Dawn as though she held the fate of the world in her hands.

"I can try, but I can't make promises," Dawn said slowly.

"That is all we ask," Madame Giry said calmly, "come. We must get you fitted for the costume."

Dawn allowed herself to be led away. What had she gotten herself into?


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I still don't own "Angel of music", but I do own the other stuff that Dawn sings

A/N: I still don't own "Angel of music", but I do own the other stuff that Dawn sings. I also own the plot of the opera they're performing.

Erik: (clears his throat)

Me: "What?"

Erik: (glares)

Me: "Oh, yeah. I don't own any of the characters except Dawn and Squishie. There, happy?"

Erik: (nods)

Me: "Thanks to all my wonderful reviews. Keep 'em coming!"

Chapter 6

"Are you sure there's not a way out of this?" Dawn asked warily as Madame Giry helped her tie up the back of the costume.

"I am quite sure," Madame said, making a double-bow so that it wouldn't come loose while she was dancing, "besides, you will do very well. You were almost flawless today in rehearsal."

Dawn sighed. It was opening night.

"Hey! Why did Carlotta just go on the stage?" Dawn asked angrily. She didn't want to go out there, but she didn't want Carlotta fudging up her part, either.

"Oh, dear," Madame said, knowing something would happen.

"Carlotta!" Dawn hissed from the wing, motioning for her to come here. Carlotta sneered nastily.

The play they were doing was about a rich girl wanting to marry a poor farmer. The stepmother understood completely, but the father didn't. Therefore, the stepmother was going to assist the two young lovers with all of their plans. Dawn seemed to fit the part for the stepmother perfectly, but Carlotta was going to wreck it.

Madame Giry was looking quite amused.

"She used the throat spray, didn't she?" Dawn asked. Madame nodded.

Dawn snorted into her hands, trying to contain her laughter. A "phphphph" sound emitted from between her fingers.

"It will not be long now," Madame sighed, "I just hope Erik can control his temper enough not to kill anyone else."

Dawn shook her head. She didn't know. Sure enough, two lines into the first song, the infamous "CROAK!" echoed throughout the room. Peals of laughter were coming through the audience. Carlotta flushed hot red. Dawn grinned.

"Serves you right, you egotistical bitch!" Dawn muttered.

Carlotta cleared her throat and tried again.

"Ah--CROAK!"

Dawn dropped to her knees, shaking as the laughter resonated through her body. Tears flowed out onto her cheeks as Carlotta ran off the stage. Andre and Firmin, feeling quite put out, got on the stage to ask the audience to hold on for a bit. Dawn looked up to see a flash of white for a split second above her in the rafters.

"Please don't," she begged, looking up where she last saw it, "it's okay. You proved your point."

Silence. She didn't expect him to say anything, but she hoped for some sign that he had heard her. She prayed that he did. Everyone recovered from their laughing and Madame Giry nudged Dawn out on the stage. Dawn had just reached her spot when the curtain went up again.

Dawn had to flit around like a busy housewife. The dance involved her bouncing around the stage, singing cheerfully. It was very hard to conjure up that much cheer when she was nervous as Hell. She felt her ballet shoes and costumes soak with nervous perspiration.

She breathed a sigh of relief when the first act was over. She wasn't in the second, which was a scene between Christine and one of the other actors.

"Whew, that was hard!" Dawn panted, collapsing on a vanity stool, "I've never seen so many people in my life."

The nausea had already started.

"Get ready," Madame told her, "you will be going out again soon."

Dawn groaned and went pale.

"I don't think I can do it again," Dawn moaned, "I feel really sick."

Suddenly, something landed in her lap. It was a red rose with a black ribbon tied around the stem.

"He is with you," Madame told her, "it is his way of saying you are doing well and to keep it up."

The shift in music meant she should make her way inconspicuously on the stage. Clutching the rose's cool stem in her hand, Dawn tiptoed on. She was supposed to be singing a song about the situation that her "daughter" and her "husband" were in. Gazing at Christine and a tenor named Pierre, she began to sing:

"_Please don't let the world_

_take from you another day,_

_life was never meant_

_to be dreamed away..._

_Take each other's hands..._

_don't let this be the end..._

_you're so young, _

_you have many beginnings to explore..._

_Don't live your lives like me_

_wondering..._

_if you could have more..."_

Quite suddenly, the audience saw a shift in Dawn's aura. She was no longer Dawn, but Georgina, a kind, compassionate stepmother that had married due to poverty rather than love. She saw a daughter that was in love and she didn't want her to have that taken away. The character surrounded Dawn and they were one. She clutched the rose to her chest as she sang the next line.

"_Go on, flee this place,_

_there is nothing for you here_

_but regrets, broken dreams_

_and an endless parade of tears..._

_I won't let you lose_

_what I never had to gain_

_so I will help you_

_in anyway I can."_

She "jumped" when her "husband" entered. Christine and Pierre, sensing an argument, hid behind the "bushes" as Dawn and her husband talked. It was singing rather than talking, but it was beginning to escalate into an argument. Dawn's voice was soft and reasonable while her husband's was hard and loud.

The opera progressed to where Dawn helped Christine and Pierre elope and she gave them half of the fortune the family possessed without telling her husband. When the husband found out, he killed Dawn. Dawn struggled not to smile when this scene came along: this part had been a lot of fun to rehearse. She had a fake blood packet crammed into the top of her dress. Her husband slammed his dagger into the packet and the fake blood sprayed everywhere. The audience was horrified as it streamed down her body.

"Now, dear wife, who has the misfortune!" he roared, throwing down the dagger and stomping out of the garden.

"_I once hoped_

_for a greater love_

_for a greater life_

_sent from above" _

(Dawn coughed)

"_I once hoped_

_that I could love you_

_and that by some miracle_

_you'd love me too."_

(Dawn staggered and landed on her knees)

"_I once dreamed_

_of a castle, a prince, a family._

_Now I see_

_I dreamed foolishly_

_and some things just were not_

(cough)

_meant to be._

(the tune played a dark, minor key)

"_You say_ (cough)_ that I have misfortune,_

_and yes, I have had my own._

_But, dearest husband, who has it worse?_

_For you will end up all alone..."_

Dawn fell forward dramatically and lay face-down on the stage. She heard several sniffs from the audience and grinned because they couldn't see her face.

The ending came when Christine and Pierre realized she was gone. They sang about sorrow for the kindly stepmother, but also about how much they loved each other and what they would accomplish with their life. Then, the undertakers came to get Dawn and put her in a coffin, which they rolled offstage. Upon getting the coffin off the stage for the final act, Dawn pushed the lid open and sat up, truly looking like a corpse with the drying fake blood on her.

"Surprisingly enough, that was fun!" Dawn said triumphantly, accepting a towel to sponge herself off. She decided to ease herself away from the crowd. She went to the dressing room and stripped off the costume. She scrubbed away the rest of the fake blood, them stepped behind the screen to find her pajama pants and T-shirt that she had put there. Someone knocked on the door.

"Dawn?" Christine's voice called.

"Yeah?" Dawn answered.

"Raoul and I are going to a cafe for dinner," she called, "would you like to come?"

"Yeah!"

"I will meet you in the front in ten minutes, then."

She closed the door.

Dawn sighed.

"Crap. I got nothing to wear," she said irritably, "I didn't even think about going out tonight."

There was another knock on the door.

"What now?!" Dawn mumbled.

"It's me," Meg called, "Christine told me you were going out. I brought you one of your dresses."

Dawn breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thanks."

Meg slung it over the top of the screen and got into it. She helped Dawn lace up the back.

"Tell Christine I'll be out in a little bit," Dawn said, "I have to feed Squishie. She's probably starving. I'm going to leave her here so she doesn't take a chunk out of Raoul's leg again."

"All right." Meg dashed out of the room. Dawn sighed discontentedly when there was another knock.

"Come in!" she said with more irritation than she meant. Andre and Firmin came in with armfuls of roses.

"Some tokens from your admirers," Andre said, leaving them on one of the tables. For once, he didn't place any demands on her and neither did Firmin. Dawn smiled as they left.

"Brava, bravissima," a voice floated through the room. Dawn almost jumped out of her skin. Growling, she turned towards the mirror, hands on her hips.

"_Angel of music, why keep hiding?_

_The world knows you are there..._

_Come out of that mirror, does it make you laugh_

_each time you give me a scare?"_

The mirror began to slide open. Dawn waited impatiently. Someone came bursting into her room and the crack disappeared again. Dawn held in a curse and turned around. This time, it was one of the other ballet girls.

"I hope you don't mind," she said, holding up Squishie, "but I borrowed her for a short time. She's been fed, walked, and everything. I was just really lonely and she's been good company."

Dawn petted Squishie.

"You know what? Leave her in my room before it gets too late, but hang onto her. I don't have anyone to watch her and in this huge opera house with all the chaos, anything could happen to her and I don't want that," Dawn said, kissing Squishie on the top of her head. The young girl gave Dawn a grateful look and left.

Dawn sighed. She'd have to go in a moment, but she really wanted to talk to Erik. The door slammed shut again and the mirror slid back. She had her back turned, but she heard him. She tensed when he placed his hands on her shoulders, but forced herself to relax.

"What a night," she mumbled, "I'm beat. I'll sleep good tonight."

He rubbed her shoulders gently. Dawn closed her eyes and let her head sag forward.

"You did very well," Erik whispered into her ear, sending chills down her back, "much better than I expected."

Coming from him, that was the highest of compliments. She felt another red rose with a black ribbon pressed into her hand. Her fingers curled around it just as the door opened. Both of them were startled this time, but it was Madame Giry. Dawn relaxed again. Erik had removed his hands from her shoulders and both of them were around her elbows.

"Hello Erik," she said crisply, "it is a pleasure to see you again, not to mention that our remaining stage hands are still intact."

Dawn wasn't sure why, but it sounded comical coming from her. She suppressed the laughter, but Erik felt her shake and saw her mouth twist in the mirror.

"If I were him, I'd get more pleasure out of making Carlotta look stupid," Dawn chuckled, "it was great in the play I saw, but it's hilarious in person."

Madame Giry could not suppress a smile.

"Erik, you must stop doing that to her. It's very hard on the vocal chords."

"Yes, but her voice is very hard on my ears," Erik retorted, "one evil must replace another for the good of my opera house."

Dawn did allow herself to laugh that time. She wondered how much of a sin it was to notice how good it felt to have Erik this close to her.

"The Vicomte and Vicomtess are expecting you, Dawn," she reminded her.

Erik suppressed a scowl. He slid his hands down Dawn's arms. Madame Giry looked as though she knew something Dawn didn't. Erik held an air of superiority; it was as though he thought she was too good to hang out with Raoul and Christine.

"Dawn, why don't you go now? I would like to stay here and talk to Erik."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Holy smoke

A/N: Holy smoke! Lots of reviews on this story. I think there was an explosion after chapter 5. I'm having a great time reading all the wonderful feedback you guys have sent. In fact, there are so many reviewers now that I can't keep track of them all!

Erik: (rolls eyes) "I'm not surprised. You can't even keep the files on your computer straight."

Me: "Don't you have a crappy singer to torture?"

Erik: "I would," (lounges on my couch), "but Carlotta's out sick today. I think I might have overdone it just a bit."

Me: (stares) "Well, then. While Erik lounges on my couch, let's get back to the story."

Erik: (has fallen asleep).

Chapter 7

The door closed. Erik stood with his arms crossed, looking like a teenager waiting on a lecture from a parent. Madame Giry locked the door so that there wouldn't be any more intrusions.

"You care for Dawn."

It was a statement, not a question. Erik's stomach clenched violently as realization struck him. On the outside, his expression change was so subtle that only Madame Giry, used to reading him, could detect it. She gave him a warm motherly smile and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I cannot love her," Erik choked out, "Christine was too much for me. I will not have another woman affect me in such a way."

"She won't," Madame Giry told him, "Dawn is far different from Christine. The two of you have much in common. I saw the way you looked at her."

Right now, she knew she was fighting a lost cause, but Erik would realize it soon enough. The subject switched to improvements that needed to be made for the next opera.

The surroundings were bright and busy. Christine and Raoul were doing most of the talking. Dawn ate her dinner in relative silence and they were halfway through dessert when they finally noticed her silence.

"Dawn, you've been very quiet," Christine commented, "is anything wrong?"

"No," Dawn sighed, "it's just been a big night for me. I had to get over my stage fright."

Christine and Raoul looked at each other. The look that passed between them was unsettling.

"I noticed you had a rose from the Phantom," Christine commented icily. Dawn looked up at her, bewildered at her tone.

"Yeah. He left it for me because I was on the verge of getting sick," Dawn said, "he was trying to make me feel better so I'd get my butt out there and sing."

She was beginning to get irritated at Christine and Christine picked up on that immediately.

"I'm concerned for you," Christine said cautiously, "when Erik gets an obsession with someone, he doesn't want to let go and can get quite dangerous."

Dawn gave her a heated look.

"Well, I appreciate your concern," she said with strained politeness, "but I'm sure I can handle it. Erik's never met a woman like me."

Sensing the tension between the two women, Raoul quickly searched for a way to diffuse it.

"The Masque Ball will be coming up soon," he said, "I'm quite looking forward to it."

The conversation turned to costumes and masks. Dawn sent Raoul a grateful look.

Christine, however, was now a wreck. She knew that the infamous Opera Ghost had returned, but she had refused to believe it was truly him. Now that she had evidence...

The feeling that stirred within Christine was a very strange one mixed between fear, anger, jealousy, and pity. She acted unusually cool towards Dawn for the rest of the evening, but Dawn refused to pay much attention to it. Dawn was never so glad to see the opera house in her life. Raoul and Christine escorted her in though she insisted that they didn't have to trouble themselves. She went up to her room quickly, not wanting to get herself into any unwanted situations. Then, she unlocked her room and went inside.

"Squishie!" Dawn hugged her pet affectionately before locking the door again and placing the key on her night table. She stripped immediately and had just pulled on her nightgown.

"Have a good time?"

Dawn almost shot through the ceiling. Turning around, she poked her finger into Erik's shoulder.

"Don't do that! I hate being snuck up on. You know what happened to the last guy who tried that!"

Erik smirked at the memory. One of the stage hands thought it would be funny to try and scare her; she'd punched him in the jaw before she realized who it was.

"I have much better reflexes than that fool," Erik reminded her, "I see he still has quite a bruise."

Dawn flushed beet red. He could see it even in the modest candlelight.

"I felt bad about that," she reminded him, "I don't like hurting other people unless the situation warrants it."

Erik chose not to comment.

"Been keeping Squish company?" Dawn asked, changing the subject.

"She is a very intelligent animal," Erik commented, "I managed to talk her into stealing Carlotta's ridiculous hat."

Dawn laughed.

"Then what?"

"I managed to hide her before Carlotta could carry out any of the threats she was screaming out," Erik said calmly.

Dawn patted Squishie on the head.

"Just don't get her into anything that would hurt her," Dawn said, hugging the dog to her chest, partly to cover herself up, "she's my best friend."

Seeing her attempt at modesty, Erik held out her pink robe to her. She took it gratefully.

"It gets really cold in here at night," Dawn said, shivering, "I do wish they had a way to heat this place."

"Winter has only begun," Erik warned her, "you should think about getting some warmer clothing."

Dawn couldn't help but agree with him. She flung herself under her covers when a particularly strong draft came through the room. Erik shook his head in disgust.

"I must get you moved to a better room," he said irritably, "this room isn't even fit for a slave and it's certainly not fit for you."

Dawn flushed again. She had yanked the covers up so that only her head was showing, more in shyness than in cold. Squishie was cold, too. Dawn lifted her covers slightly to admit the dog.

In the back of his head, Erik wondered how warm it was beneath those covers. He shook that thought away, but it returned as quickly as a boomerang. Instead, he returned his attention to the opera that they had just performed.

"I did not know you suffered from stage fright," he commented, "for having it as badly as you claimed you did, you did very well."

Dawn squirmed slightly.

"I do believe that I can finally rid this opera house of La Carlotta," he said, his voice hinting the slightest excitement.

Dawn sank further into her covers until only her eyes were showing.

"But I'm just the hired help," Dawn mumbled, her voice slightly muffled by her blankets, "Andre and Firmin won't want me onstage unless I'm scrubbing it."

Erik laughed, a laugh that sounded bitter.

"Let me handle them," he told her, venturing closer to bed. He bent his knees until they were eye-level with each other and Dawn could almost feel his breath on her face.

"Would you like to be up there? Would you like to do that for the rest of your life?"

Erik knew a great deal of how to bend people to his will. He had easily touched a nerve and he knew it. Singing was one of Dawn's passions, but she constantly discredited herself or allowed others to do it for her.

"I've heard you, Mademoiselle, even in moments when you thought no one was listening. I have heard the passion in your voice, the conviction. Yes, your voice is raw and untrained, but you have the gift. You shouldn't waste your life and your talent doing mindless labor when you have much more to offer. If anything, you and Carlotta should trade places."

She could hear the conviction in his voice and it moved her deeply.

"I take it that you're offering your help," Dawn half-asked.

A shadow crossed Erik's face.

"Only if you want it," he said warily, "I am told I am very strict and a very demanding teacher."

Dawn grinned.

"Well, I figured as much," she said jokingly, "I've never met a teacher to drop heavy stuff on a person that couldn't perform well."

Her jesting made him smile a little.

"I think if I could handle my teachers in high school, surely I can handle you."

Erik blew out the candle beside her bed.

"We shall see," he said in a challenging tone, "get plenty of rest. We begin at daybreak, no exceptions. If I must drag you from your bed, so help me, I will."

Dawn watched him retreat into the mirror.

"Squish, I think I just got myself in over my head," she admitted, but the dog was sound asleep. Sighing, Dawn rolled onto her stomach and yanked the covers over her head so that she could cocoon herself completely.

True to his word, Erik came through the mirror shortly before the sun rose. Dawn, he noticed, was fast asleep. He couldn't see her position because she was covered all the way, but he could tell from the rhythm that the blankets fell and rose with her breath.

Gently, he loosened the covers from her head.

"Dawn," he said crisply, "it is time."

She didn't respond. Erik pulled the covers down to her shoulders and shook her gently. She mumbled incoherently and rolled over.

"I warned you," Erik said, shaking his head. He yanked her covers off completely, wrapped an arm around her waist, and hauled her off the bed. He purposely handled her in a way that would make her think she was falling. Once the adrenaline kicked in, Dawn grabbed at Erik, heart suddenly racing.

He couldn't help but notice the position they were in. Dawn's legs were splayed awkwardly as she tried to regain her balance. Her arms had wrapped around his upper back and upper arms and her mouth was really close to his. He had caught her from falling with one arm wrapped around her waist and the other around her shoulders. The color rose to Dawn's cheeks, but he couldn't see it in the dark. Carefully, he helped her regain her balance.

"Get dressed," he demanded, "it will be cold."

She went behind the screen and came out again with jeans and a pink sweater on, more of her modern clothes.

Erik didn't question her. Instead, he led her down the maze of hallways without a word. The sky had begun to lighten when they came into a room Dawn had only been in to clean: it was the room that the chorus girls used to practice singing. Dawn yawned, standing beside the piano. Erik examined how she was standing. No, this would never do. He placed one hand on her stomach, the other hand between her shoulder blades and straightened her up.

"You cannot breathe correctly unless you stand up straight," he warned her, "my hand should move when you breathe."

Dawn was trying to pay attention to what he said, but she got chills when he touched her. He placed his fingertips under her chin and lifted it slightly.

"There."

He sat down at the piano.

They did scales first to warm up Dawn's voice. Then, he made her sing one of the songs from the last opera.

"Open your mouth more," he told her, "I cannot hear a word you sing."

She was tempted to laugh at that statement, but didn't. She would tell him later that most men told her to do the opposite.

She hit a high note and squeaked rather than sang. Erik stopped playing.

"Take a bigger breath," he told her, "repeat that measure."

It helped a little. Then, he noticed what the problem was. Each time she tried to hit a note, her voice box would practically jump into her mouth. He couldn't exactly see it, but he could hear her wheeze and strain her way through the high notes. He placed a finger on her throat and hit the piano key again. Maybe it was the pressure from his finger or maybe it was Dawn being more conscious of how her throat moved, but she managed to hit the note without losing control. Erik was impressed.

"How much voice training have you had?" he asked her.

"A little. Our school had a choir; I took it all the years I was there," she said as he closed the lid of the piano.

Hmm. So, she knew the basics.

"Singing in a group is far different than singing alone," Erik explained, "singing in a group requires the voices to blend, so they are softer and do not require as much effort. When singing alone, you must carry yourself above the music."

Dawn vaguely remembered her choir director saying something about that, but she rarely auditioned for solos, so she didn't have to worry about it then.

"Next time you practice on your own," Erik said, "pretend you are at a particularly noisy place and that you must make the people at the very back of the room hear you."

Dawn actually understood that visualization. She nodded. Both of them glanced at the clock.

"Time for me to feed Squishie and take her out for a walk. I'm guessing you're going to terrorize Andre and Firmin some more, huh?"

A smirk answered her.

"All right then."

Just then, someone came around the corner. Dawn turned, but Erik had vanished. He was good at that!

It was Meg.

"Did you hear?" she asked excitedly. Dawn shrugged.

"Carlotta's fallen ill! Nothing too serious, of course, the doctor was here last night, but her throat is afflicted. She can't sing in the next opera."

Dawn frowned. The next opera performance was still a long time away.

"How long is it going to take for her to get better?" Dawn asked.

"Well, the truth is," Meg lowered her voice so that any passersby couldn't hear her as well, "the Phantom doesn't want her to perform anymore. He's trying to persuade her to leave."

She followed Dawn upstairs to get Squishie. The poor dog could hardly wait to get outside. The two women discussed matters further while Squishie took her walk.

"Some have even said that the Phantom wants to replace Carlotta with you," Meg said, "is that true?"

Dawn shrugged.

"I have no idea," she admitted.

In truth, she didn't really want to talk about it. Dawn felt as though she were on some sort of freak show with everyone talking about her that way.

"Dawn, do you think he loves you?"

Dawn stopped dead in her tracks.

"What?" she asked more sharply than she meant to.

"The Phantom. Do you think he loves you?" Meg repeated as though she were talking to a child.

"I have no idea," Dawn admitted, more frustrated on this subject than the last. Surprisingly, Meg let it go, switching to a new subject.

"Madame Giry's going to be taking on new students this year," she said, "all young ballet girls. We're even going to be teaching boys, too."

Dawn grinned.

"I think that's good," Dawn said, "you don't see many men doing ballet, but they are just as good at it as women are."

They discussed the age of the children, where they would be coming from, and where they would be staying. They returned to the opera house with a much happier Squishie. Just as they approached the door, however, a great chaos stirred from within. Carlotta huffed out with her assistants carrying her suitcases and poodles. A lavish carriage waited for her.

"You little toad! This is all your fault!" Carlotta roared, pointing at Dawn.

"What did I do?" Dawn asked, confused. Carlotta thrust a letter at her. The wax seal shaped like a skull sent the wheels in Dawn's head turning. Dawn unfolded it.

_Carlotta,_

_It has come to my attention that you have long since passed your prime at this opera house. Your voice grates on the ears so much that it could be considered an adequate method of torture. It is my wish that you depart at once or I will find another way to dispatch you. Mademoiselle Dawn shall be taking your place._

_O.G._

Dawn's eyes widened and the letter fell to the sidewalk.

"Holy crap!"

Carlotta scowled at her.

"Well," she huffed, "I do hope that you and your mangy mutt of a dog have a good life here, but I assure you, I will not be forgotten!"

Someone helped her into the carriage.

Meg and Dawn looked at each other.

"Huh," Dawn mumbled, "it's been one heck of a morning."

"And it's not over yet," Meg reminded her.

Carlotta's carriage took off. Andre and Firmin emerged, looking white as a sheet. They looked at Dawn as though she were made of glass.

"Mademoiselle, allow us to escort you to your new room."

Dawn and Meg followed them.

Carlotta's old room had been stripped bare and the horrid pink walls repainted a soft blue; Dawn's favorite color. A large bed took up almost half the floor space and her things had already been moved in. Her clothes were already hanging up in the wardrobe. Roses and lilies sat in a large ornate vase on one of the tables. This bedroom connected to its own bathroom, for which Dawn was grateful. White lace curtains blew softly in the breeze from a large window that overlooked the street below. Dawn noticed with amusement that the full-length mirror was also built into the wall. She wondered if Erik knew which room she was in now.

"Will this do, Mademoiselle?" one of them asked.

Dawn nodded.

"Yeah. It's a lot nicer in here."

They both breathed a huge sigh of relief and took off.

"Boy," Dawn commented, stretching out on the couch in front of the fireplace, "this is great."

Meg sat down in one of the armchairs. Squishie had already leapt up onto the bed and curled up for a nap.

"You know he did this for you," Meg reminded her.

"Yeah. Wasn't necessary, but I appreciate it," Dawn said. She noticed clothes in the wardrobe that hadn't been there before. One of them was a winter coat, which she'd desperately needed. Another was a winter nightgown with long sleeves. There were several dresses and a couple of pairs of shoes she didn't recognize, either.

"My goodness!" Meg exclaimed, looking at the clock, "We're late!"

Dawn was lamenting the fact that she hadn't had any breakfast when she came tearing into the room where everyone had collected to receive their parts. Madame Giry approached her, script in one hand, a pastry in the other. Gratefully, Dawn took both.

"Thanks a lot," she panted, sitting down. During the introduction of the music, Dawn contemplated on how things were changing so fast.

She also noticed the strange feeling she had when she thought about the Phantom. A warmth filled her heart like a candle flame.

She began to remember the night Erik was in her dressing room. Gooseflesh popped up on her arms as she remembered the way his gloved hands had slid down her arms. Twice, she missed when she was supposed to come in. The guy playing the piano was not pleased. The chorus girls were getting aggravated with her because they kept having to start over. Dance practice wasn't much better; Madame Giry would shout at her to stop daydreaming and pay attention when she crashed into the other girls. Meg had to grab her skirt and yank her in the other direction a few times to keep her from spinning into someone else again.

Squishie was just as glad when practice was over as she was. Going to the kitchen to retrieve Squishie's dinner, Dawn sighed.

"You know, Squish, I think I'm in trouble," she said, chopping up some leftover meat and setting it in a saucer for her. Squishie whined and looked up at her, her ears sticking straight out.

"I think I have a thing for the opera ghost."

No one heard her, fortunately. Erik was elsewhere at the moment and no one was in the kitchen. As Squishie gobbled up her dinner, Dawn tuned out the cook's scolding. Funny how some things are completely routine even after everything changes.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Can't thank you guys enough: I got a lot of wonderful reviews (not to mention some very humorous ones

A/N: Can't thank you guys enough: I got a lot of wonderful reviews (not to mention some very humorous ones!) I love writing for people that like my stories!

Erik: sigh

Me: "Problems?"

Erik: "I can't concentrate on my music with you rolling around the room in your desk chair, not to mention all of that ridiculous bouncing! How much coffee have you had?"

Me: "Not much…half a pot." runs in circles around him and his organ

Erik: groans "And I thought I was scary."

Me: "Gee, thanks. ONWARD!"

Chapter 8

"Having one of those days?"

Dawn jerked around, but there was absolutely no one in the hallway. No, that wasn't accurate. Erik was there, but he was well-hidden. Apparently, he knew how to throw his voice.

"Will you cut that out? My adrenaline glands can only take so much!" She stared into the direction where his voice had come from. Embarrassed, she realized he must have watched her at practice.

"And yes," she said, her voice dropping to almost a whisper, "I am having one of those days."

"Anything I can help with?"

Neither of them noticed Christine just around the corner. Her jaw had dropped open. Erik sounded so, so-...relaxed. It just wasn't like him. He usually sounded omnipotent and mysterious.

"I wish," Dawn mumbled, "it's an inside problem."

Squishie was scratching on her leg and whining.

"I'll see you later," Dawn said, "I have to change out of my costume and Squish here is dying for a walk."

She continued down the hall. Christine peered around the corner after her.

"Christine," Erik's voice said curtly. Christine spun around. The masked figure in question stood a few feet away. She had the look of a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar.

"Hello Erik," she said, her tone cool despite her obvious case of nerves, "I was just-"

Erik held up a hand.

"Save it," he said acidly. Christine stared at him, her stomach souring. What were his intentions?

"You forget," he said icily, "that I studied you for years. And I know when you're hiding something."

Christine cringed. Curse his ability to read her like a book!

"Do you miss it, Christine? All the years I spent pouring my attention over you?"

The tiny hairs on the back of Christine's neck stood up. Despite the fact that she'd been afraid of him, he knew her weak spots.

"I gave you everything you had," he continued, his voice rising, "my music, my heart, my entire existence. You chose another. It wasn't easy for me to accept that, but I have. What happens between Dawn and I is our business. Stop trying to talk her out of it. If you think I can't make you keep your silence, you are gravely mistaken."

Christine couldn't believe his frankness. He had never once spoken so openly to her before. It was then that she realized she knew very little about him. She'd just assumed a lot of things.

A door slamming shut was an indicator that Dawn was emerging from her room. Christine turned to look. When she turned back again, the Phantom was gone.

Dawn walked with Squishie around the corner. Squishie seemed in a hurry to get outside.

"Hey," Dawn said, trying to keep her tone from getting acid.

"Hello," Christine said, barely above a whisper.

She stared at Christine.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Dawn commented, "come with us. Get some air."

Christine decided not to comment on the fact that she had, in fact, seen the ghost. Dawn was moving so fast that it was hard to keep up with her. When they were outside, Squishie took off.

"Don't worry about her," Dawn said dismissively, "she'll be back in a second."

Christine studied Dawn. Although Dawn had dropped some weight due to working, then dancing, she would never be a petite figure. She didn't behave as a lady should and Christine wondered what on earth Erik saw in her. Maybe he liked Dawn's raw honesty and unconventional manners.

"Have you seen Erik recently?" Christine asked, trying to be casual.

"Yeah." Dawn was being vague on purpose. Squishie came tearing back over to Dawn and Dawn patted her on the forehead. Squishie looked at Christine almost as if she knew something Christine didn't.

"Man, practice today was killer," Dawn said, stretching her sore muscles, "how are you holding up?"

"I am well," Christine said, "I've gotten used to it."

"I wish I would already," Dawn replied, "I feel like every muscle I have is one big knot right now."

She picked a flower and tucked it into Squishie's collar.

The two women didn't talk much for the rest of the walk. Just as Dawn asked Christine what had been bothering her earlier, she was saved by Raoul. Squishie, unfortunately, was not amused.

"Squishie, let go," Dawn sighed, trying to loosen the dog's grip on Raoul's pants leg. She growled and shook her head.

"Let...go..." Dawn said, trying to pry her jaws apart. Raoul jerked loose and crashed to the sidewalk.

"Sorry," Dawn said, actually meaning it. She held an irate Squishie with one arm and helped Raoul up with her free hand. Squishie had forgotten about Raoul at some point and had now turned her attention to Christine. Embarrassed, Dawn apologized and carried her back to the opera house.

"What is the matter with you? You're acting so weird," Dawn commented to her dog. She put Squishie on her bed. Suddenly, Dawn thought of something.

"Squish, what have you been doing during practice?"

She gently prodded Squishie's belly. It seemed unusually firm. She heard the mirror slide back.

"Squishie's going to be a mother," Dawn said, knowing Erik was coming up behind her, "I've been wondering why she's been so cranky lately."

A black gloved hand gently probed the dog's stomach.

"The question is, where did she-" realization struck Dawn's face, "uh-oh... I bet anything it was one of Carlotta's poodles. I'm pretty sure they were both boys."

Squishie affectionately licked Erik's hand. She stood up and wandered closer to him, tail wagging.

"How close do you think she is?" Dawn asked, wondering how she didn't notice how fat Squishie was.

"Not much longer," Erik replied, "a week, maybe."

She noticed the weariness in his voice and turned to look at him. Erik's face was paler than usual, except for the top of his cheek. There, he was flushed. Dawn's fingers brushed against that place, then across his forehead. Erik cringed a little, still remembering the times Christine had taken his mask off. Dawn didn't however.

"You have a fever," she informed him.

"I'm aware," he said irritably.

"You should stay up here tonight," Dawn said, "if your place is anything like the play where I come from, it's probably really damp down there and it's going to be really cold tonight."

Erik hadn't been feeling well for a couple of days now, but he really wasn't feeling well now. His joints ached and so did his head. Erik didn't eat much anyway, but his appetite was nonexistent. He was feeling decidedly tired and weak, but he'd wanted to talk to Dawn badly enough that he'd shoved his physical ailments aside. Now that he'd been reminded, they came back to the surface.

"You could stay here," she offered. Erik shook his head. He'd never get any sleep in the same room as Dawn. He'd be worried about his mask falling off.

"Let me guess," Dawn said, "you think it's improper for a man and a woman to be together at night in the same room."

Erik resisted the urge to sigh in relief. She'd taken his refusal as manners and not fear.

"All right. I'll talk to Madame Giry and see if I can get you a room on this floor or something. Then, I can bring you stuff. That sound good?"

Erik thought about going back to his lair, but there was nothing there for him but his organ. Everything else seemed unimportant. It would be cold down there; he didn't have nearly enough blankets to keep warm with. It would most likely make his congestion worse. He was running out of food again and he doubted he could conjure up the energy to make himself something.

"I'll be back in a second," Dawn said, "you should probably sit down."

She steered him over to the couch by the fire. It was pleasantly warm here. Squishie hopped up beside him to keep him company as Dawn dashed towards the door.

Dawn found Madame Giry talking to one of the managers. When she was done, Dawn pulled her aside and explained the situation.

"He must trust you," she commented, visibly surprised, "he wouldn't dream of coming to the surface when ill. He's usually afraid he'll get caught because it slows him down."

When they returned, they found a sight that made both of them smile. Erik had slid over until he was laying on his back on the couch. Squishie had come to rest on his chest and one arm curled around her. His lips were slightly parted and he was fast asleep.

"I guess I'll just leave him here," Dawn whispered. She retrieved a blanket and covered them both up.

"Here is the key to the other room," Madame said, handing her a skeleton key, "it is the last one on the right. I will bring a tray for him, some water, too."

"Thanks," Dawn said.

Madame left.

Dawn studied Erik carefully.

_I can't say that I love him yet, _she thought, _but I definitely feel something. Without a doubt, I feel something. He's just so beautiful. I love his eyes. I love his voice- oh, that voice. I've only heard it a couple of times when he was demonstrating something with music for me, but he could make a flower grow out of an iceberg with that voice. It sends chills down my spine._

Dawn sat down in one of the chairs. She just watched him. Gradually, another hour passed and the gray sky began to turn darker. As she watched him, sweat popped out on his forehead.

_The fever's breaking,_ she thought. Erik twitched. Squishie, sensing something was going to happen, got up and relocated to beside Erik's legs. His twitching became more violent and an incoherent mumble escaped his lips.

Dawn ventured closer to the couch, knowing full well what was going on. He was having a nightmare. No sooner had she reached him, Erik jolted awake, his breath ragged. Dawn placed a soothing hand on his forehead.

"It's okay," she whispered, "I'm here."

He turned his good cheek towards her touch and waited for the inevitable to happen. But she didn't touch his mask. His hand covered hers. Whether it was the fever or something else, Erik was feeling decidedly intoxicated. He knew he needed to leave, so he tried to get up, but Dawn's other hand held him in place.

"Stay," she told him, "just stay still. Rest."

His breath began to smooth out and gradually slowed to normal.

_Please, God, if there is one, don't let this be a dream,_ he prayed silently, _please just let it be real, please let it last. Amen._

Dawn stroked his forehead gently. She retrieved a clean dry cloth and gently sponged away the sweat. She wished she had a change of clothes for him. Then, she reached the edge of the mask. He sensed her hesitation.

"Is it okay if I-" she started to ask, unsure of what to say after that.

Erik's heart began to pound. Holy crap! It was happening again! He stirred uneasily, but he was too weak to get up.

But he was going to do it this time. If things went to Hell, he would go with some dignity. With a trembling hand, Erik reached up and pulled his mask off. The rush of air to his exposed face made him shudder violently.

With a very gentle touch, Dawn wiped his face. She smoothed his hair back.

"There," she whispered, "your fever's breaking, but you're still kind of warm. I'm going to get you a cold rag."

She left.

Squishie, sensing Erik's apprehension, wandered up beside him and gave him a big, wet dog kiss on the deformed side of his face. He petted her affectionately and she curled up beside his other arm with a contented sigh.

Dawn returned and placed the cool rag over his forehead. It felt wonderful. He didn't realize how irritated his face got from the mask. She left again and came back. Moments later, he felt her rubbing some sort of cream on his deformed side.

"Your skin's really irritated," Dawn explained, "this will help it calm down."

Erik _really_ thought this was a dream by now. He hadn't felt the slightest tension in her touch. She hadn't shuddered or screamed or even gasped. Her touch felt so good...

Erik didn't remember falling asleep again, but the next thing he knew, it was morning. Sunlight was pouring into the room. For a moment, he was very disoriented because he wasn't used to being in such bright light. He blinked several times, trying to get his vision to adjust.

Dawn stood over him. The sun was coming in behind her, casting Dawn in a golden glow. She looked like an angel in her white ballet uniform. Her hair was already up and everything.

"Well, good morning," she said affectionately, "you made it."

Erik turned his head to look around. He was still on the couch by the fireplace. Squishie was sleeping soundly on his stomach and Dawn's blanket still covered him.

So...it hadn't been a dream...

Dawn stepped forward, blotting out the sun for a moment. The light was so overwhelmingly bright that it was all Erik could do to keep his eyes open. She caressed both cheeks and his forehead.

"Your fever's gone completely," Dawn observed, "that's a very good sign. Madame Giry dropped some food by here a little while ago. Some old guy in charge of material for costumes is staying here for a few days, so you'll have to stay in here for a couple of nights. Madame Giry and I don't want you going to the basement until you regain some strength. Squishie can keep you company. If she gets too squirmy, just open the door and let her out. She'll come find me. Food is over there on the table. Any questions?"

His silence made her assume not.

"I'll be back to check on you the next break I get," Dawn assured him, "see you then."

She dashed out the door.

"What just happened?" Erik asked Squishie. She "whuffed" at him, then padded over to the table. Beside one of the legs, Dawn had placed a dish of meat for her. For Erik, there was bread, fruit, and hot tea. He didn't normally have much of an appetite, but he was starving today. Without his mask, he discovered that he had much more freedom.

He caught sight of himself in Dawn's mirror. Surprised, he placed a hand over the deformed side of his face. Some of the redness had gone down, fading to a light red. It actually didn't look that bad in daylight. He ran his hand over the skin. It was still slightly bumpier than the other side, but the skin overall was softer. He wondered what she'd put on him last night.

The tub in the washroom looked very inviting. Erik drew himself a bath. While the water was filling the tub, he caught sight of Dawn's iPod sitting on the bedside table. It was already hooked up to the portable speakers. He'd seen her play this strange thing many times before. But which button was it? He fiddled around with it until music came out, causing him to jump slightly in surprise.

Dawn's music was different, but he didn't mind. In fact, he liked some of it. He pressed the "forward" button the way he'd seen her do, fast-forwarding through songs. At last, he let it play and went back into the washroom.

The tub was full and the water was warm. He stripped, and looking around self-consciously, eased into the water.

Erik rarely got warm water downstairs unless he went to all the trouble of heating it over the fire. Usually that took too long, so he gave himself sponge-baths. In the summer when it was painfully hot, he would strip and dive into the lake to cool off. But this was much more pleasant. He lay his head back against the edge of the tub, just enjoying the feel of the water against his bare skin.

Once he'd sat there for a moment, Erik retrieved a spare washcloth that was laying over the side of the tub. Dawn must have anticipated that he'd need one and left it there.

His eyes fell on a strange-looking bottle. It took him a moment to figure out that the lid flipped up instead of twisting off. A very good smell came out of the bottle that was difficult to describe. Gently turning it over, he watched the dark blue fluid fall onto the palm of his hand. It must have been some sort of soap. Erik squirted a small amount on the cloth and began to scrub. The stuff began to foam when he washed and the surface of the water was soon covered in a thin coating of bubbles. Feeling much better, he got out and pulled the drain cover loose. After getting dressed again, he borrowed Dawn's hairbrush and slicked his wet hair back. He had just come out of the washroom when Dawn emerged.

"I see you found my iPod," Dawn commented, noting that he had not put his mask back on yet.

"Your music is very different," Erik commented as an electric guitar played in the background, "I haven't even heard of most of these instruments."

"That one there's an electric guitar," Dawn commented, "I have one."

She opened the case so he could see.

Erik knew how guitars worked, but this particular one was so different... he'd never seen such an odd-looking instrument.

Dawn plugged it into the portable amplifier and turned it down so it wouldn't blow Erik's eardrums out.

"It plays like a regular guitar, but it has a different sound."

She hit the strings. Erik stared at the box that the noise came out of. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not- it was kind of an annoying sound if it got out of tune. Dawn played a riff, then handed it to him. For a guitar, it seemed unusually heavy. He plucked at one of the strings, listening to the sound echo through the room.

"I gotta go," Dawn said, "Madame Giry's being a drill sergeant today."

Erik grinned. Madame Giry, even as a teenager, had taken everything seriously.

"Have fun with the guitar," Dawn said, "I don't care how much you play with it as long as you don't break the strings or something."

Squishie followed her, probably so that Dawn could let her outside for a moment.

Try as he might, Erik couldn't get used to the sound the guitar made. It was a very strange sound to him, sometimes musical, sometimes not. He pressed his fingers against the frets and experimented. Finally, he'd had enough and put the guitar back in its case. He'd leave it to Dawn; the piano and organ would remain his favorite.

Later that evening, Dawn came in, pushing the door open with her back. She was carrying a tray with two plates of food on it.

"Room service," she joked, putting the food on the table. By now, Erik had put his mask back on, but he was more relaxed than Dawn imagined she'd ever see him. Erik didn't talk much; Dawn was telling him about practice.

"Then, Christine ran right into Meg and they almost knocked each other over," Dawn laughed, "I thought Madame Giry was going to start yelling, but she didn't, surprisingly. I don't know how she does it. Anyway, then someone brought up Carlotta and everyone said things like 'thank God she's not here anymore'. Andre and Firmin had to go get a drink and they were both completely plastered by the time practice was over."

"I have only been gone one day, but it seems like much longer," Erik commented.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Dawn replied, "I had pneumonia once when I was twelve. I couldn't go to school for a month. I was bored out of my skull because my mother wouldn't let me do anything."

At the mention of the word "mother", a shadow crossed Erik's eyes, but it was the only indicator that something was going on under the surface. They talked about music for a little while as the sun went down. Storm clouds began piling up to the North. Dawn paled when she saw them.

"Holy-" she trailed off as the rolling blackness approached, beginning to blot out the red of the setting sun. Erik looked over her shoulder.

"It is only a storm," he told her, wondering what she was so worked up about.

"You don't understand," Dawn objected, "I am deathly afraid of lightning. My dad died because he was struck by lightning. I saw it!"

A crash of thunder made her yelp and cringe. She wrapped both arms around herself, shaking hard.

"It was so beautiful, but it was the scariest thing I've ever seen," Dawn continued, sounding choked, "it hit him when we were walking back home from the movies. I was only five. It was blinding white with a blue tint. It lit his whole body up for a second, then he fell and there was this huge crash that was deafening. Dad looked like a burnt piece of charcoal. The skin on his left side was completely melted and it was already starting to come off when the paramedics came. They said it went through the pacemaker cells in his heart and that's what killed him. It was so hot that it literally cooked his insides."

Another bright flash and Dawn had dropped to the floor, shaking. Squishie kissed her on the arm, trying to calm her down.

"It's stupid, I know," Dawn whimpered, tears coming out on her cheeks, "but it was horrible. I can't shake that memory no matter how hard I try."

Erik understood completely. There had been several occasions when he'd been afraid and certain things triggered the memories.

It was strange to see someone who was frightened, but not of him. Erik knelt next to her. He placed his hand on her back, rubbing it gently in small circles. Before he realized what had happened, Dawn had buried her face in Erik's shoulder and was holding onto him so tightly that it almost hurt.

"Why don't we sit by the fire? It's chilly in here," Erik suggested, getting up and taking her with him. Each time the lightning would flash, she would cringe. She sat huddled beside him, looking more embarrassed by the second. Unsure of what else to do, Erik wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She leaned into his touch, trying to stop herself from shaking. Dawn's face was white as a sheet.

"It will be over soon," he assured her. Dawn had cupped both hands over her mouth and was trying to slow her breathing down.

_I have to do something,_ Erik thought uncomfortably, _she's going to have a heart-attack if I don't. But how do I deal with this?_

Erik did the only the only thing he could do: he sang. Pulling Dawn closer, he sang the only song that he knew would have the desired effect:

_"Nighttime sharpens,_

_heightens each sensation,_

_darkness stirs _

_and wakes imagination_

_Silently the senses_

_abandon their defenses..."_

The tears had slowed and were beginning to dry. Squishie had settled next to them as the rain came down in buckets outside.

_"Slowly, deftly, night unfurls its splendor,_

_grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender,_

_turn your face away from the garish light of day_

_turn your face away from cold unfeeling light_

_and listen to the music of the night."_

Dawn's eyes closed and she rested her head against his shoulder, listening intently.

_"Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams,_

_purge your thoughts of the life you knew before..._

_close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar_

_and you'll live as you've never lived before..."_

A particularly loud crash of thunder shook the opera house, but Dawn was too transfixed with Erik's voice to even notice. He observed that she didn't even flinch.

_"Softly, deftly, music shall caress you,_

_hear it, feel it, secretly possess you _

_open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind_

_In this darkness that you know you cannot fight,_

_the darkness of the music of the night."_

Dawn had almost completely forgotten the darkness outside. The only thing that she was aware of right now was the warmth of Erik's body (at least where it was touching her back and shoulders). He smelled like her body wash and she guessed he'd had a bath with it. Chills threatened to come at the thought of Erik having a bath. His breath stirred her hair gently as he sang. Now, she was the one praying for it not to end.

_"Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world_

_leave all thoughts of the life you knew behind..._

_let your soul take you where you long to be..._ (this time, she did shiver)

_Only then...can you...belong...to me..."_

_No wonder Christine had a moment of weakness in the movie_, Dawn thought, _he's definitely got that gift._ Erik's voice was making her feel things she didn't even realize were possible.

_"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication,_

_touch me, trust me, savor each sensation,_

_let the dream begin, let your darker side give in_

_to the power of the music that I write..._

_the power of the music of the night..."_

Dawn had relaxed completely and her breathing was slowing, which told Erik that she was about to drop off to sleep. He hummed softly into her ear. When he was sure she was out, he lifted her carefully and carried her over to the bed. He was staggering slightly when he did; Dawn was about twice as heavy as Christine had been. He lowered her onto the bed and covered her up.

_"You alone can make my song take flight..._

_help me make the music...of...the...night..."_

The storm was almost over. The thunder was barely audible. Erik gazed at Dawn in the firelight. Her cheek looked so soft, so inviting. He couldn't resist, though he was trying. Ever so carefully, his lips grazed her cheek before he disappeared through the mirror.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I know this chapter might be a little slow, but it is important to see the fluctuation in the emotions

A/N: I know this chapter might be a little slow, but it is important to see the fluctuation in the emotions. After all, what would a story be if it didn't have a little bit of angst in it?

Erik: "Will you shut up already? You're boring the readers!"

Me: "Don't make me get my recording of Carlotta out."

Erik: (sigh)

Me: ANYWAY, thank you all for reviewing as usual, I'd like to see some more hits on this one, but I guess I can't have everything. Onward!

Chapter 9

Two weeks went by. Erik was settled in his favorite box to watch practice. He and Dawn had been avidly avoiding each other since the storm. Erik didn't want to face Dawn again after the unmasking incident and she didn't want to face him after being a crybaby about the lightning. Everytime she thought about it, she got embarrassed all over again.

Christine was going to be married soon; this would be her last opera. The girls spent a good deal of time fussing over her.

Dawn watched her from the other side of the room as she discussed wedding plans with them. She was feeling decidedly sour by the time practice was underway.

It wasn't that she could see anything _wrong _with Christine, but something about her simply rubbed Dawn the wrong way. They were cool and civil to each other, but that was it. Dawn had once imagined them being friends until that night that Erik was brought into the conversation. Dawn was still angry with her.

She couldn't help but be a little jealous. Dawn had tried to squash those thoughts farther down into her head until they would squash no more, but it always happened. She wasn't jealous of Christine and Raoul, but rather her past with Erik.

Dawn had only seen Erik really lose his temper one time and it was so strange. She couldn't even remember what he'd been angry about, but his eyes had blazed a furious amber-gold like fire. She remembered that it had something to do with the managers and whatever they did or didn't do. Curious to see what he would do to them, she followed him (Erik knew she was there and didn't try to hide from her) to their office. Erik knew how to throw his voice. By the time Andre and Firmin left their office, they were sweaty and white-faced on trembling legs. It wasn't so much Erik's actions that had given him away; it was the absolute fury that seemed to radiate from him. Dawn wasn't afraid of Erik the way Christine had been, but she knew when to stay out of his way. If she sensed him above in the rafters, she always stepped forward right when something fell.

Christine was used to everything being done her way for the most part, but she was still afraid of Erik. Each time a sandbag would fall, a trapdoor open, or other misfortune, she would go tearing off the stage to hide in Raoul's arms. Dawn knew she'd been through a lot, but really...? Was it necessary to get all freaked out like that? By the time practice was over that Friday, Dawn was in a decidedly foul mood and just wanted to be left alone. She'd been hearing nothing but "Christine" this, "Raoul" that, "wedding", "gift", "love", and other such mushy terms. Even Meg couldn't stop talking about it. When everyone went to dinner with Raoul and Christine, Dawn feigned illness and stayed at the opera house.

"Thank God," she breathed, watching them all go. Christine was talking excitedly as the carriage took off. She decided to go fix herself a snack since the cook had the night off. As she began to rifle around for ingredients, she thought about making cookies. She sang as she worked:

_"Small town homecoming queen,_

_she's the star in this scene,_

_there's no way to deny she's lovely,_

_perfect skin, perfect hair_

_perfume hearts everywhere_

_I tell myself that inside she's ugly,"_

Squishie entered the kitchen, ready for dinner. Dawn chopped up some meat for her with a little more force than was necessary.

_"Maybe I'm just jealous,"_

She trailed off at the next line. It didn't seem right; she couldn't say she hated Christine because she didn't, so she skipped to the chorus:

_"She is the prom queen,_

_I'm in the marching band,_

_she is a cheerleader,_

_I'm setting in the stands_

_She gets the top bunk_

_and I'm sleeping on the floor_

_she's Miss..._(Dawn paused to find the right wording)

_Opera House,_

_and I'm just the girl next door."_

She placed Squishie's saucer in the floor and the dog eagerly chowed down while Dawn was mixing up the cookie batter. She was trying not to make a mess, but it was harder than it looked. Continuing to change words here and there, she continued the song:

_"Perfect job, rich husband,_

_she must be heaven -sent_

_she was never the last one standing_

_a voice and figure to flaunt_

_everything that you want,_

_never too harsh or too demanding,_

Dawn began to roll the cookies into balls first, then squashing them flat until they were the "perfect shape".

_"Maybe I'll admit it, I'm a little bitter_

_everybody loves her, but I just wanna hit her!_

_She is the prom queen, I'm in the marching band_

_she is the cheerleader, I'm sitting in the stands_

_she gets the top bunk and I'm sleeping on the floor_

_she's miss Opera House, and I'm just the girl next door._

She put the cookies in the oven and took Squishie outside. The cookies didn't take long to be done; they were gone for maybe ten minutes. When Dawn and Squishie returned, the cookies were ready to come out.

Erik watched her. He'd heard her song and he'd seen the interaction between Dawn and Christine. What was she so jealous of? The attention? No, that didn't seem like Dawn. Christine and Raoul's money wasn't a likely suspect, either. Maybe Dawn fancied Raoul? No. That idea seemed the least likely.

He'd felt guilty about going so long without having talked to her; it had been a long time. But he'd sensed the feelings he'd been getting for Dawn and drew back. He didn't see anyone else that wanted Dawn romantically, but he knew he'd be risking a lot. He was lucky to have eluded the authorities the first time; what would happen if history repeated itself? He and his opera house could not afford another slip-up like that. But just watching them couldn't hurt...

Squishie was so fat that she looked like a hairy ball. Those puppies would come any day now. Dawn, by contrast, had lost some weight from the dancing. He watched her pile all of the cookies, still warm, onto the plate and dash upstairs.

Moments later, Dawn's peace was disturbed when Squishie seemed to be panting too much for the temperature.

"What's the matter, Squish?" Dawn asked, petting the fuzzy animal's head.

Squishie whined.

"Oh, good grief. Is it that time already?" Dawn asked, gently prodding Squishie's stomach. She went in the bathroom to get some towels.

Squishie's labor was a fairly quick one. Dawn stroked her head and told her what a good girl she was and how brave she was while keeping an eye out for the puppies. The end result was three: two boys and a girl. She could tell from the texture of their hair and the blackness of one of the boys that one of Carlotta's poodles had made very good friends with Squishie.

"Huh," Dawn mumbled, examining them one by one, "well, they look good and healthy."

She lay the puppies beside Squishie so that she could take care of them. Then, she cleaned Squishie and the space around her up. By the time all this had happened, everyone had come back. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Dawn said tiredly. She was laying stretched-out on her bed with Squishie beside her and was nibbling on the cookies she'd forgotten about earlier.

Meg entered the room and squealed when she saw Squishie's puppies.

"When did this happen?" Meg asked.

"Just a little while ago," Dawn answered, "apparently, this opera house is full of surprises."

Meg petted Squishie, then the puppies.

"It's a shame you didn't come," Meg said, plopping down on the bed beside her, "there were others there."

"You mean as in 'single male others' ?" Dawn asked.

"Yes."

"Well, I'm glad I was here," Dawn answered, "I'd have missed Squishie's puppies."

She held up the plate. Meg gratefully accepted a couple of the cookies.

"You weren't really sick, were you?" Meg said, half-accusing.

Dawn swallowed her bite of cookie.

"I wasn't," Dawn admitted, "I just wasn't feeling social tonight."

Meg knew there were other reasons, but she chose not to talk about it anymore.

Erik tried and tried, but he couldn't get Dawn out of his mind. Everyplace he went, it was her, her, her!

As he'd been doing a frenzied pace around his underground lair, he paused abruptly.

He realized he'd barely thought about Christine at all today, or at least how she'd hurt him. As realization hit him, a draft made the candles sputter as though they were whispering to him.

What to do, what to do. His thoughts were barely coherent and that made him nervous. Maybe he should try and stay away from her.

But that was difficult to do with her living in his head and not even knowing it.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Erik: (closes laptop, looks frustrated) "What is it with you Phangirls putting me in these situations?"

Me: (grins) "It's fun."

Erik: (raises an eyebrow): "And I'M supposed to be the mad one…."

Me: (Cackles like a witch).


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Sorry the update's taken so long

A/N: Sorry the update's taken so long. I've been having some health issues lately, but we're getting them dealt with. I was sad because I couldn't take my laptop to the doctor's office. Enough said.

Erik: "I am NOT your nursemaid!" (pops a thermometer in the author's mouth while fluffing the pillows and adjusting the blanket).

Me: "Not usually, but she who holds the keyboard holds the power. MORE JUICE!"

Erik: (sighs): Why must I be called to every Phangirl (stomps down the hall to the kitchen muttering).

Me: Ha. Now for the paperwork. I don't own POTO or Music of the Night, just Dawn and Squishie, blah-blah-blah. Keep those reviews coming! I'll heal faster. Erik doesn't believe me, but I swear!

Erik: (Returns with juice glass) "Mademoiselle, my patience is running out. Are you going to write today or not?"

Me: (sighs) "Fine." (opens laptop and begins pecking).

Chapter 10

It was difficult to take care of Squishie, her puppies, and make it to practice. She named the two boys Shadow and Midnight after their coat colors. The girl was named Blondie because of her light coat. She tied a blue ribbon around Midnight's neck and a red one around Shadow's (not too tight, of course) so she could tell them apart. Blondie got a pink ribbon and Squishie got a purple one. Somehow, Dawn managed keep Squishie fed and walked as well as doing practice, but it was time-consuming and tiring. She couldn't wait until the puppies were weaned and Squishie could show them where to get meat from the kitchen. Luckily, the cook had been a better mood recently. Accepting that Squishie and Dawn were NOT leaving, she began to slip Squishie scraps of meat. The next few weeks sped by and the puppies thrived. They were getting their first teeth in and Squishie was feeding them solid meat. Dawn slowly made progress on her dancing, but she had to wonder why Erik seemed to have stopped talking to her.

Opening night went off without a hitch. There were no accidents, no disturbances of any kind. Erik stayed quietly in his box, satisfied now that Carlotta's horrible voice would never be heard here again. He did notice, however, that Dawn didn't have her usual stamina. He was beginning to wonder why when he saw her eyes lock onto Box 5.

That expression...he'd seen it before, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was. She stared at it for a good three lines, then she went back to looking at Christine the way she was supposed to. The audience hadn't noticed this, but Erik had. He made a mental note to find out what was going on later.

The opera ended much faster than he would have liked. Deciding to get to the bottom of things, he slipped silently in and out of the shadows and locked the door from the outside.

Dawn had just brushed her hair out when she heard the lock click. Puzzled, she stared at the door and her heart began to pound.

The mirror began to slide back. Dawn realized who it was and breathed a sigh of relief.

From Erik's point of view, the white lacy dressing gown made Dawn look like an angel in the candlelight. Her costume was flung recklessly over the back of a chair and her feet were bare. All of her makeup had been stripped away and her skin was a soft pink from where she'd just scrubbed it. She sensed him staring and squirmed awkwardly out of reflex.

"Where have you been?"

There was a tang of disappointment in her voice, one that he was unaccustomed to. He wasn't sure how to answer it. There was a tiny yip around his right foot and he looked down. Blondie was scratching at his leg, wagging her tail. Very carefully, he picked her up and petted her.

"She looks just like her mother," Erik commented, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah, she does."

When had things become so tense between them? Erik remembered the power he'd held over Christine, but Dawn was so different. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest like a caged bird. His insides were twisting and a thin sheen of perspiration had appeared on his face, down his back, and on his palms. How could she make him so undone by doing nothing?

Dawn remembered their first meeting in the dressing room. She longed for him to touch her again, to hear his voice right next to her ear, but she squelched the desire down as best as she could.

"Squish's going to wean her pups any day now," Dawn told him, "you're more than welcome to take one home with you. It would probably give you some company down there."

She sounded so sad, but he couldn't figure out why.

"I'm not sure it would be safe for a dog," he said truthfully. The idea of those poor little puppies wandering into his traps made him sick to his stomach.

"Feel free to come visit them whenever you want to. I wouldn't mind a visit either, now and then," Dawn said, dropping a very obvious hint.

_She missed me...How in the Hell could she miss someone like me?_

Once again, Erik had no words. She sensed how close he was behind her and leaned her head back until it rested against his stomach. A sensation like being lightning-struck surged through Erik's nerves.

_Okay, Genius, get the hint? Why do we really keep dragging this out? It's so damn obvious!_ Dawn thought. Then, realizing what she was thinking, her face flushed slightly. Erik wasn't looking at her face in the mirror, but he could feel the heat from her face even through his gloves. The cool leather felt good against Dawn's burning skin and a pleasant sensation caused her stomach to twitch.

"Where have you been all this time?"

Erik froze.

"You know all the managers have been saying that you're gone," Dawn told him, sitting back up. Some of her hair had gotten mussed when she'd leaned back. Instinctively, he smoothed it back.

"They won't for long," Erik smirked, "they should know me by now."

Squishie came up to Dawn and stood up on her back legs, asking to be picked up. Dawn picked the fluffy thing up and hugged her.

"It's hard, ain't it? Everyone's so busy fussing about those puppies that they forget all about you," Dawn cooed, kissing and stroking Squishie's fuzzy head.

_How lucky she is to have a master like Dawn,_ Erik thought. He remembered the rose he was still holding. He placed it on the dresser and watched Dawn fuss over Squishie for a few more minutes. One of puppies yipped and Squishie jumped off of Dawn's lap to go check on them.

"She's got the whole 'mom' thing down," Dawn commented, "look at that."

One of the puppies had jumped onto another chair and couldn't figure out how to get down. Squishie put her front paws on the chair, grabbed the puppy by the nape of the neck, and gently lowered it to the floor. Then, she kissed it until it stopped whining.

It was then that Erik observed her to be the most vulnerable, not when the storm had come. Yes, Dawn had been afraid of the lightning and gotten scared enough to cry, but her expression had totally changed now. When she looked up, he saw Dawn's essence in her dark eyes.

He'd seen her stressed and he'd seen her angry. She had hidden herself behind a cool and sarcastic demeanor to deal with it. Even during the lightning incident, she'd still been a little guarded. He wore a mask on his face, but she wore one on her heart.

Someone banged violently on the door. Before anyone could do, think, or say anything, Erik had pulled Dawn out of her chair and steered her towards the mirror. Squishie and the puppies followed and he closed the mirror just as the person got in. Instinctively, Erik placed his hand over Dawn's mouth. She didn't fight him.

The man who had just exploded in looked a lot like the stage hand who had tried to rape Dawn so many months ago.

_They must be brothers,_ Dawn thought. Erik steered her away from the mirror and she didn't fight him, stumbling blindly down the dark passageway. The puppies were having a hard time keeping up, so Dawn scooped them up. Erik grabbed Squishie with one arm and placed his hand on Dawn's shoulder to keep her from getting lost. They didn't talk until they reached the boat.

"I think I'm in trouble," Dawn said, "that guy looks like he's related to the jerk who tried to hurt Squishie."

Erik glanced over his shoulder. Dawn was seated at the other end of the small boat with the four dogs piled in her lap. She didn't look at all worried about being down here. Soon, they reached the gate.

"I have no idea how he even found out about this," Dawn admitted, "I didn't tell anyone. You're the only other person who knew."

"I thought I heard someone running away," Erik mentioned, "but I did not think to chase them."

Dawn stared at the top of Squishie's head.

"What am I going to do?" Dawn asked, "if he's looking for me, he'll kill me."

"No, he will not," Erik said firmly, "you were the best thing to happen to my opera house since Christine came along."

Dawn flushed bright red and tried to hide behind Squishie, failing miserably.

"Uh, thanks," Dawn mumbled. To receive a compliment from the Opera Ghost himself was almost unheard of.

They came to a stop where a very familiar scene was. Dawn recognized it as Erik's lair from the movie. There were a few changes here and there, however. There was a wall between the swan bed and the organ. The coffin that Dawn had heard about from the Leroux novel was nowhere to be seen and neither was the cat. Somewhere to the left of the bed, there was a small kitchen area. Farther over was a set of stairs that Dawn had no idea where they went to.

"You will stay here tonight," Erik told her, "I will be back."

Dawn almost protested, but thought better of it. Once she and all the puppies were out of the boat, Erik took off again.

Dawn watched him go. Sighing, she put Squishie on the swan bed, then gathered up the puppies and put them up there, too. It was eerily quiet down here except for the sound of dripping water. Dawn decided to take a look around.

The kitchen area was plain and strictly functional, but the cabinets were well-stocked. Dawn didn't take anything, she was just looking. Then, she came out of the kitchen and wandered over to the organ. Just to goof off, she began pecking out the notes to "Phantom of the Opera". After a while, she grew bored with that and scanned the bookshelves. There were several books from all over the world. Dawn pulled out a few and leafed through them, but she grew bored of that, too. It was too quiet down here and it was really beginning to agitate her. Slowly, her voice rose in song, timid at first, but gathering up power.

"_Oh, yeah, I tell you something,_

_I think you'll understand..._

_when I say that sometimes..._

_I want to hold your hand..._

_I want to hold your hand..._

_I want to hold your hand._

She sang it slower than it was written, but the result was lilting melody that echoed through the caverns.

"_And when I touch you I feel happy inside..._

_it's such a feeling that my love, I get high..._

Gradually, she drifted into a more similar tune.

_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication,_

_touch me, trust me,_

_savor each sensation,_

_let the dream begin, let your darker side give in_

_to the power of the music that I write..._

_the power of the music of the night._

Then, she began to improvise on the song so that it would fit her.

_Don't be afraid, I won't break your heart again,_

_I think you know that by now we're not just friends_

_let yourself go, don't be afraid to show_

_what you can't deny rests in your heart tonight,_

_the feeling of the music of the night._

_Close your eyes now and imagine my touch,_

_can't you see that's waiting for you?_

_Let the fear melt away from your dreams..._

_only then, will you ever know the truth..._

_Running, hiding, still you can't escape it_

_Kiss me, hold me, my love's here, so take it_

_Know that you are mine, you have been all the time,_

_Can't you tell it from the music that you write?_

_A new song for the music of the night._

Erik had not yet come through the gate. Dawn had her back to him. To hear her singing his song with different words made something powerful rise within him. He carefully opened the gate and entered with no noise whatsoever.

_Close your mind to its ramblings of past pain gone,_

_let your heart lead you along the way,_

_don't be afraid, because I won't let you fall_

_pretty soon, you won't hurt at all._

_Dreaming, flying, surrender to my touch_

_Touch me, trust me, I can show you love_

_Don't waste your time regretting_

_cause then you'll be forgetting _

_to look at what's right there by your side_

_the voice of the music of the night..._

_Your song alone can make me take flight_

_write for me the music of the night..._

Dawn jumped visibly when she saw Erik.

"Would you stop sneaking up on me?! That drives me crazy!"

He couldn't help but half-smile.

"What did you do to that guy?"

Erik shook his head.

"I didn't kill him," he said, knowing Dawn wouldn't have liked that, "I just gave him a good scare. And I brought you something."

He handed Dawn her iPod.

"Thanks," she said, relieved, "it was way too quiet up here."

"Quiet. It wasn't quiet when I returned," Erik said casually.

Dawn flushed deep scarlet.

"Uh-yeah," she said, slightly embarrassed, "just doing a little improv."

"You made all of that up?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Dawn blushed deeper.

"I've seen plenty who can sing, but very few that can compose," he answered.

Dawn plugged the iPod and turned it onto a playlist of slow songs. Being silly, she picked up Squishie and started slow-dancing with her.

How she ended up dancing with Erik, Dawn did not know. They drew closer to each other until Dawn's cheek was pressing against his. Intoxication did not begin to describe what they were both feeling. Erik's eyes burned a bright hot gold. Squishie, satisfied that everything was fine, drifted off to sleep.

At one point during the song, they were close enough that they could have kissed. Their eyes locked.

_I don't dare do this,_ Erik thought, _I want to, but I can't._

Dawn hated the tension that was building like a dark cloud between them charged with lightning.

_Oh, for God's sake!_

Erik wasn't one to be taken by surprise very often, but he definitely was when Dawn surged forward and claimed his lips. He didn't have time to respond, think, breathe, or do anything. The feeling that surged through him surpassed anything he'd ever felt with Christine and his heart thundered. His arms had fallen limply at his sides, but she was holding him.

When they pulled apart, Erik was shaking so badly he could hardly remain standing. Dawn, with a satisfied grin her face, bounced over to the swan bed.

"Good night," she teased, pulling the cord for the curtain. He could only stare at her, wide-eyed, as the curtain fell around her.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

A/N: All right! Updates! WOOOO!! (throws confetti in the air) And it didn't take me forever to do them, either.

Erik: "It's about time!"

Me: "I don't nag you about writing music, do I?"

Erik: (gives a Look). I thought Phangirls never ran out of ideas… most of them go on for days."

Me: "It helps to not be sick while you're trying to write. Besides, I didn't know you could use the word "Christine" so much in a song. What was the record, twenty-seven times?"

Erik: "Why must you exaggerate everything?"

Me: "I'm a writer. Exaggerating things is what I do best. You hit your organ, I'll hit the keyboard and we'll ignore the crap out of each other the rest of the day. Sound good to you?"

Erik: (takes off running)

Me: "Tee-hee. Watch this." (presses a button on the computer and reveals a camera in the music room where Erik is). "Can't have my muse totally gone, can I? Anyway….. as I'm sure you know, don't own anything but Dawn, Squishie, and the pups."

Chapter 11

The sensations he felt were unlike anything he'd experienced. When Dawn's lips first touched his, it was as though a bolt of lightning had surged through them and spread throughout his body, leaving vibrant sparks of electricity through his nerves. His stomach had twisted and leaped, fluttering strangely. All of the moisture in his mouth and throat seemed to migrate to his back, the palms of his hands, and his forehead creating a soft sheen of perspiration. His heart crashed wildly against his ribcage, but he could hear it in his ears as well. It sounded like a steady pulsating thunder. His lungs seemed to lose their capacity and he was breathing in short gasps. His blood thrummed hotly through his veins, showing its fire on his flushed cheeks. Nothing compared, however, to the dizziness that claimed him. He felt as though the entire world were rolling like a giant ball and he couldn't keep up with its motion. His legs were trembling like water being shaken in a glass. Quickly, he sat down on his organ bench, though he faced away from it.

Nothing on earth had felt like this before, not even, he dared to think, Christine's kiss. Christine's kiss had been full of pity, still salty with her tears for Raoul. There had been no love in that kiss, only a quiet resigning to what she thought would be her fate.

Dawn, however, did not have anything tying her to this opera house. She could leave anytime she liked. She did not love anyone the way Christine loved Raoul. She did not view Erik as the malevolent Opera Ghost, but as an ordinary man who did extraordinary things. He had felt a number of things in that kiss: a slight nervousness, gratitude for saving her, trust, and heat. There had also been something else. Erik often thought he was a master at reading people, but this was something he never saw directed at him. The split second after they parted, he saw, in the depths of her almost-black eyes, her bared soul. She'd allowed him to see because she cared about him.

A split second earlier, the cavernous basement of the opera house had seemed far too small an claustrophobic. Now, however, he felt very small as he sat huddled on the bench. For the first time, he realized, someone wanted him, and it completely unnerved him.

A touch on his leg startled him out of his feverish thoughts. He turned his head to see Squishie scratching at his knee. She wagged her tail, looking up at him with her big dark eyes. He scooped her up and placed her on his lap. It was a strange sensation to have anything sit in his lap. She tried to give him a dog kiss, but Erik gently held her back. Eventually, she gave up and just sat there as he stroked her fuzzy head. Eventually, she got tired again and went back to the swan bed.

Very, very carefully, Erik parted the curtain just enough to see. Dawn was sound asleep and was completely buried under the covers. He saw a small hole where her nose probably was, but she was totally hidden. All he could see was a vaguely shaped lump where she was and the gentle rise and fall of her breath. He wished he could see her face. Squishie and her puppies lay beside her. All of the puppies were asleep and Squishie was nearly there, flopped on her back with all fours in the air. Erik wanted to laugh at the dog's position but didn't. In the background, the iPod was playing a very soft piano song.

Erik meant to write some music ideas down, but it didn't happen. He realized he was very worn out, but he didn't remember falling asleep at his small table in the kitchen area. It was probably one of the few times he slept deeply and completely untroubled by dreams.

When Erik woke, he was completely puzzled at first. He straightened his mask, wincing at the crease it had made on his cheek. It would be covered, so it didn't matter. Feeling decidedly cramped, he got up to stretch.

He had just made it back into the "main" room when the curtain moved. Dawn appeared, flanked by the dogs. Her face was still pale from sleep and she was still rubbing her eyes against the candlelight. Her hair stuck up on one side of her head, little pieces straying here and there. Apparently, she had slept well.

"Morning," she yawned.

Erik stood motionless, feeling as a deer in the headlights would. Dawn took her hair down and shook it out. Erik was still trying to decide what to say as she smoothed it out and put it back up.

"Think anybody noticed me missing?" Dawn asked. Erik shook his head, trying to find his voice. Squishie scratched at her leg and Dawn picked her up.

"Squi-shie! How's my mama dog doing?" She kissed Squishie on top of the head affectionately as she often did.

Erik stared at a nearby candle for a moment. Then, he finally spoke: "I should return you. Sooner or later, they will come looking for you."

"In a hurry to get rid of me?" Dawn asked. Erik squirmed until he realized she was teasing.

"Don't worry about them," she said, putting Squishie in the boat, "nobody messes with the Great Opera Ghost except for me."

During the last sentence, she had somehow gotten behind Erik and was embracing him. Erik felt like he was going to jump out of his skin and he instinctively froze. Sensing his tension, Dawn released him and retrieved the puppies.

"These guys should be weaned soon," Dawn told him, "you're more than welcome to take one. I know it probably gets really lonely down here. I gotta train the little monsters first, though."

She eased herself into the boat and Erik got in after her. He was completely confused. How was it that she didn't get offended by his lack of response? How was it that she wasn't the slightest bit disgusted with him? He really began to wonder.

She had just stepped through the mirror and he had just closed it behind her when Madame Giry, Christine, Raoul, Meg, and the managers exploded into her room.

"What's going on?" she asked. The managers were the first ones to react.

"Where in the HELL have you been?! The whole opera house has been looking for you!"

Dawn didn't answer. She crossed her arms over her chest, staring them hard in the face.

"I don't suppose your disappearance had to do anything with that damned Opera Ghost," the other one snapped, "or maybe it has everything to do with him."

Dawn tilted her head to the side, looking at them both very critically. Behind the mirror, Erik watched warily.

"What of it?" Dawn asked acidly.

"Dawn, you must understand," Raoul said, "he's very dangerous and mentally unstable. What happens if he believes that the two of you have a relationship?"

Dawn's scowl hardened further.

"Maybe that's what we want," Dawn said firmly.

Erik felt his heart start to pound.

Christine went white and sank into the nearest chair. Raoul took her hand in his.

"I don't think you understand the gravity of your situation," he said, trying not to get Dawn angry, "it was very traumatic for all involved, the Opera Ghost himself at the top of the list. You have to be sure that he is the one you want, for he'll never let you go. I'm surprised to this day that Christine and I got away without serious injury."

Erik could see the fury building in Dawn. Her face had flushed hot red as though her soul was on fire. Her lips were set in a very tight line and her fists were clenched at her sides.

"Look," she snapped, "I know that what happened to you and Christine wasn't exactly the high point in y'all's relationship, but you have to get over that sometime. I'm twenty years old, I am more than capable of making my own decision. I appreciate your concern, but this is between me and Erik. If you have a problem with that, well, I'm sorry, but I'm not changing my find just to please you. I care about him in ways that the rest of the world never could because I grew up in a different world where you're extremely lucky if you get the right guy at all. I'm not rich, I'm not beautiful, and I'm certainly not a meek little good girl who does what she's told. I'm loud, I'm opinionated, and I'm clumsy, but at least I know he likes me for me. Who I fall in love with is MY business. If any of you try to come between us, you'd better hope that Erik gets there first because what he does won't be anything compared to what I'll do. I would defend him to the death if I had to."

Erik slid to the floor, trembling and weak. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"We're human," Dawn continued, "we make mistakes, we screw up, we're not perfect, for God's sakes! Erik may have made a few huge ones, but look at the life he's had! He may have an idea of what love is, but he's never learned how to act on it because nobody showed him. He has a few friends, yes, but everything's all secret and hush-hush. What the Hell kind of life is that?! We all have things to hide. His mask is on his face, but the rest of us wear it over our hearts so that nobody can see that we occasionally have a crap day or we're nice when we want to ram the nearest person into a wall, then point and laugh. Nobody can see that we have tempers or desires that society wouldn't approve of. And we damn sure better not show that we have weaknesses, heaven forbid! I do everything you guys ask, I do the practices, I still take over maid duties when the maid is out sick, I run back and forth delivering messages, I put up with your constant criticism. Isn't that enough? Isn't there at least one realm of my life that I can do what I want with?"

Properly chastised, the managers left. Christine had regained some of her color and didn't look so fragile. Raoul was still staring at Dawn in disbelief. Madame Giry was giving the mirror a knowing look and Meg was half-smiling at Dawn's revelation.

"So, the truth is out," Dawn said, looking exhausted, "I have a headache."

She flung herself across the bed and stretched out. Everyone stayed where they were.

"Christine, let's go," Raoul said, sounding rather unnerved. Christine was silent as he led her from the room.

"I know you guys have the best of intentions," Dawn said, "but I wish you wouldn't worry so much. You make me feel like I can't handle anything."

Madame Giry approached the bed.

"Take a day off," she told Dawn, "and remember, be gentle with his heart. He has much to learn about love."

"Will do," Dawn said, giving the older woman's hand a squeeze before she left. Meg sat down in the chair beside her.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Meg asked, playing with one of the puppies.

"I've never been so sure in my life," Dawn mumbled, face now buried in a pillow, "I just hope Erik heard all that. I'm not sure I have the strength to tell this story again."

Behind the mirror, tears were falling silently. They slid down Erik's cheeks as he buried his face in his hands. Joy beyond anything he had ever felt had flooded his heart and overflowed to crystal drops on his cheeks. Dawn had just stood up to everyone for him. He had NEVER known someone to do such a thing.

"Let's go somewhere later," Dawn said to Meg, "anyplace to get out of the opera house for a couple of hours. I feel kind of suffocated."

"We could go shop for our masquerade costumes," Meg offered.

"Sounds good," Dawn admitted, "I didn't get to go to the last one."

Meg left so that Dawn could rest. As soon as Erik had fully regained his composure, he came back in.

"I am in so much trouble," Dawn told him without so much as looking up, "but it's worth it."

She felt the warmth of his upper body as he embraced her from the back (she was laying on her stomach). Dawn closed her eyes, soaking up the warmth.

"How much did you hear?" she asked.

"Everything." He sat down in the chair beside her bed.

"Good. I don't have to repeat myself," Dawn mumbled, "Andre and Firmin are the two most trying men I've ever met. Sometimes I want to haul off and smack the out of them."

Erik stared at Dawn's crudeness, but didn't comment.

"They think they know every damn thing," Dawn complained, "without you, they'd be sunk right about now and so would Raoul and Christine."

Erik was surprised that Christine's name didn't stab him. In fact, he agreed with her.

"She's such a weakling," Dawn mumbled, "she has a lot of growing up to do, which includes growing a backbone. And Raoul's got to learn that it's not his job to save those who don't want to be saved."

He found himself nodding even though Dawn was still laying facedown on the pillows.

"I think Madame Giry and Meg are the only ones that really understand," Dawn said, turning her head slightly so that her voice was clearer, "they're the only ones who haven't chewed me out about this."

His fingers had somehow found their way to Dawn's golden blonde hair. Fascinated by the curls, he poked one finger through a curl without disturbing it in the slightest. Dawn was enjoying his touch and protested when his hand withdrew.

"Don't stop," she told him, "my headache started going away when you did that."

He gently ran his fingers through her hair. She was so relaxed that she fell asleep. Dawn always seemed to be tired from his perspective. Carefully, he covered her up and left to go terrorize Andre and Firmin. He noticed, before he left her, that she had the beginnings of a smile still on her lips.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

A/N: Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews! Things are going great right now! School is wrapping up, illness is fading, and I no longer have writer's block!

Erik: "How much coffee did you drink this morning?"

Me: "Surprisingly, none. It came naturally."

Erik: "Hmm." (opens closet door and a bunch of things fall out on his head. Erik looks irritated.) "How much longer do I have to stay here? Can't you at least hire a housekeeper?"

Me: "I'm in college, remember? Broke? Hell-o!"

Erik: (sighs and throws everything back in the closet, slams it shut) "Why must every Phangirl I work for be a peasant!"

Me: "Because we have the biggest dreams, of course."

Erik: (shakes head and sighs, throwing a pile of clothes off the couch.) "Whatever."

Chapter 12

"All set," Dawn said, "I just need the mask."

It was the night of the Masquerade Ball. Dawn had chosen a black dress that hugged her curves perfectly. The neckline showed plenty, but not too much. The sleeves were shorter because Dawn didn't want to get overheated. Little gold ribbons that matched her hair trimmed it. She had let her hair down out of its usual bun or ponytail and it cascaded onto her shoulders in gold ringlets. Dawn had kept her makeup modest since she wanted the mask to be her focal point.

The Masque Ball was taking place on her birthday, but Dawn had only told Madame Giry, Meg, and Erik. She didn't really care for the rest of the world to know. Today, however, was special. Dawn was twenty-one.

She slid the mask down over her face. It covered the upper half of her face. The mask was black with gold outlines around the eyes, giving her an almost catlike appearance. Black feathers decorated the upper edges, sweeping out slightly from Dawn's face. A gold band around the back of her head held the mask in place and blended in with Dawn's hair. Her shoes were the same gold color as the trim on her dress.

She turned to Squishie.

"Shall we put your costume on?" Dawn asked. Squishie "whuffed" and sat on her haunches in the begging position.

"Okay," Dawn laughed. She found the small pair of angel wings she'd had made for Squishie and tied them around her waist. Then, she put the little headband on. A little golden halo stuck up from Squishie's head.

"You look great," Dawn said, kissing Squishie, "okay, kids, you guys behave."

She took Squishie with her and closed the door, locking it behind her.

Immediately after rounding the top of the stairs, Dawn felt her insides squirm. There were a lot of rich people here. The music was painfully slow.

"Holy crap, Squish. They need our help," Dawn whispered to the dog in her arms. Squishie started to growl.

"What's wrong?" Dawn asked her. Then, she looked in the direction that Squishie was looking.

"Why is Carlotta here?" Dawn wondered. They made their way down the stairs without really being noticed. Before she and Squishie could get much farther, her elbow was grabbed.

"Oh, uh, hi," Dawn said awkwardly.

"I would like to introduce you to my friend Jacques," Raoul said, motioning towards a man about her age. Before Dawn could even get a word out, he took her gloved hand and kissed it. The next thing she knew, she was being whisked onto the dance floor.

Dawn looked around to see if there was anyone that she would recognize. She was mainly looking for Erik. On the edge of the dance floor, Meg waved to her. Dawn sent her a "HELP ME!" look.

"You are a wonderful dancer," Jacques remarked, trying to pull her in closer, "we have something in common."

Dawn tried to smile, but it came out crooked.

"Uh, thanks," she said awkwardly, "I really should get going, I'm expecting someone."

"Not another gentleman caller, I hope," Jacques said suggestively.

"Yes, afraid so," Dawn said bluntly.

Instead of being rightfully embarrassed, he seemed to miss the point entirely.

"I shan't keep you long," he whispered in her ear. Dawn tugged herself out of his grasp.

"I could use a drink," she said hurriedly, taking off.

Getting beside the food table, Dawn breathed a sigh of relief. She got a few finger sandwiches and gave Squishie a bite of them. She was surprised to be as hungry as she was. After she chugged a glass of punch, she was disappointed to see that Jacques had found her again. He was talking incessantly, but Dawn turned away from him, trying to give him a hint. She'd had more than her fill of his rambling and tried to walk away. Squishie got tired of him and stood in front of Dawn, growling.

"Get away from me, you stupid beast!" Jacques snapped. He swung his arm to hit Squishie, but she beat him to it and sunk her teeth into his hand. Dawn peeled her loose.

"Rule number one," Dawn said firmly, "I don't like anybody that doesn't like Squishie. She was here first. Second, I told you that I'm with someone. Why don't you go talk to someone else?"

Scowling, Jacques stomped off. His hand was bleeding a little bit, but his pride seemed injured more. Andre and Firmin, full to the brim with champagne, were dissolving into a fit of laughter. Meg was giggling into her hands. Even Madame Giry couldn't suppress a grin.

"Thank you, Squishie. At least I'll have a story to tell Erik later. Let's do something about that music."

She wandered towards the musicians and whispered something to them. The music became much faster. A few brave young people ventured out onto the floor to dance. With a satisfied look, Dawn patted Squishie on the head. Another guy, one that didn't seem so pushy, asked her to dance and she accepted. By the time the song was over, Dawn was fairly winded and went to sit down.

She stayed sitting for the next couple of songs.

"Everybody around here's with someone," Dawn mumbled to Squishie, "I wonder if Erik's going to bother coming."

Squishie suddenly stood up, her tail wagging. Dawn scanned the sea of masked faces, but she couldn't see him. After what seemed like an eternity, she noticed a tall, slender-built man emerge from the crowd. She couldn't see him well enough to know for certain, but there was a gut-feeling that told her it was Erik. Like her, he was dressed in black and gold.

"Wonder if he was watching me when we went shopping," Dawn muttered to Squishie. Sure enough, upon getting closer, Dawn noticed that he was carrying a red rose in his hand with the characteristic black ribbon tied around the stem. Instantly, the night seemed much better.

"It's about time," Dawn whispered as he approached her, "I didn't think you were coming."

Erik petted Squishie's head. Seeing that her master was content, Squishie bounded off her lap to go see the ballet girls. Erik offered his hand to her.

"I am here every year," Erik reminded her, "this is the one night that no one recognizes me."

"I can," Dawn teased, "no one I know has eyes that are the same color as fire."

This made Erik smile. He led her to the dance floor. Jacques, who was still at the edge of the crowd nursing his ego, scowled and crossed his arms over his chest.

Dawn was beginning to notice that his eyes changed colors with his mood. When he was nervous, his eyes turned pale blue-green. When he was angry, they were a heated amber. When he was sad, they would turn dark blue or blue-gray. When he was in a good mood, like tonight, they were a jewel green, shining against the darkness of the mask. She told him about Jacques.

"Don't worry about him," she said, seeing the displeasure on Erik's face, "Squishie took care of it. She has a pretty good set of teeth. I think she hurt his ego worse than his hand."

Erik was beginning to like Squishie more and more. Gradually, both of them were laughing, some at the ridiculous costumes, some at Andre and Firmin's drunken antics and some at Carlotta, who got snubbed by a few rich old guys that said she couldn't sing. Needing more energy, both of them wandered back over to where the food was. They ran into Christine and Raoul. Dawn, feeling uneasy about it, squeezed Erik's hand. He gave her a reassuring squeeze back, running his thumb over the top of her hand. Dawn started talking to both of them about how the party was going.

Raoul was the first to react. He looked at Erik, then did a double take. Sweat broke out on his forehead, but he smiled uneasily and pretended not to know Erik. Christine looked back and forth between Raoul and Dawn, trying to hint to them who the masked stranger was. Dawn's smile got a little bit bigger, wordlessly telling Christine she already knew. Luckily, Meg came along and diffused the situation, telling Raoul and Christine that Madame Giry was looking for them.

"Thanks for that," Dawn breathed, "the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife."

"No problem," Meg said calmly, "Monsieur Opera Ghost, are you enjoying yourself?"

"Erik," he corrected her.

"Erik, then," Meg repeated, "it's nice to see the two of you together."

A slow song began to play and Dawn and Erik headed back for the dance floor. It was then, in Dawn's mind, that the party transformed.

In Erik's embrace, Dawn felt like Cinderella. At most parties she'd ever been to, Dawn ended up as a wallflower for most of the night. She may have been loud and opinionated, but parties just weren't her thing and she was usually awkward in social settings. Tonight, however, memories of high school and college days gone by drifted away. Behind her mask, Dawn felt as though she could do anything. Her ears vaguely caught whispers from the crowd. By now, everyone had figured out who she was with.

"Listen to them," Dawn whispered, wanting to laugh, "listen to them all freaking out."

"It doesn't bother you?" Erik whispered back.

"Nope. Not in the slightest."

She leaned forward and kissed Erik on the cheek, eliciting a few gasps.

It was the first time that anyone other than the select few found out about the mysterious blonde girl from nowhere and the Opera Ghost. Dawn guessed that Christine and Raoul had probably let it slip who they were. For the first time, all eyes were on her and she wasn't nervous in the slightest. There was more chemistry going on between the two of them than most of these high-society couples.

"Now I see why you love to mess with people," Dawn told him, "it's fun and it gets addictive."

He grinned.

"I have become a bad influence on you," he teased.

Usually, Dawn was very self-conscious about her dancing. In Erik's arms, she glided effortlessly over the floor. Heat from the warm room and Erik's close proximity made her cheeks flush slightly. She was contented to spend the rest of her life in his embrace.

Erik felt almost as though he were dreaming. Dawn felt warm in his embrace, and if this was a dream, she felt solid enough. The mask took away all of her awkwardness and enhanced her personality. Her dark eyes glinted under the mask, but he was afraid to guess what was in their depths. It was the first time he'd noticed the fullness of her lips, dark red against her fair skin. Wonders never ceased with this woman: she'd managed to do what no one else on earth, not even Christine had done. Christine had simply been an obsession, a fragile dream shattered by cold reality. Dawn, however, was real, and unless she was a very good actress, had chosen him regardless of what others might think.

He pulled her closer. Over the top of her golden hair, he looked at the crowd. Some of them had gone back to dancing and praying they wouldn't be noticed. Others were still trying to figure out who she was. He caught a glimpse of Christine's face. Surprised, he wondered why she seemed so upset. She was looking daggers at Dawn. Instinctively, Erik's arms tightened around her. The song ended.

"Let's go get some air," Dawn suggested, "it's a little warm in here."

He took her hand and they went upstairs, Christine's angry gaze following them all the way up. They emerged on the roof and Dawn took in a deep breath of the cold wintry air.

"Much better," Dawn said, "I hate crowds. They make me claustrophobic. And society has very weird rules."

"Yes, it does," Erik said. He heard a scratching on the door and opened it to let Squishie out.

"Come here, Squishie," Dawn cooed, scooping her up. She did a double take. One of Squishie's costume wings was bent and her halo was missing entirely.

"What happened to you?" she asked, noting Squishie's messed up hair. Erik examined her. Then, his nose as keen as a bloodhound's, picked up on a familiar scent.

"Carlotta," he commented, "I would know that disgusting perfume anywhere."

Dawn hugged Squishie.

"Poor Squishie. Did she do anything to you?"

Other than cosmetic damages, Squishie seemed fine. She saw a bird and chased after it, jumping into the air to try and catch it. Dawn shook with laughter, holding onto Erik for support. When she couldn't catch the bird, she barked and growled at it as it flew away. Erik couldn't suppress a chuckle and soon it grew, bubbling out of his lungs and ringing out through the breeze. Laughter was a rare thing for Erik, but with Dawn, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"You gotta love Squishie," Dawn said when she'd recovered, wiping the tears off of her cheeks, "she's good for laughs. I don't know what I'd do without her."

Erik realized that there had been no one in his life like that. A bittersweet pang struck his heart.

"Funny," Dawn continued, "you live your entire life without someone, then when they come along, it seems like it's impossible to live without them. If they leave for whatever reason, it leaves a big hole."

Erik remembered being on this roof a long time ago and watching Christine and Raoul. It had hurt so much; he remembered clutching Christine's rose and feeling as though the weight of the world had come crashing down onto him. That memory seemed to be nothing more than a bad dream now. Dawn scooped up Squishie and began to sing a familiar tune.

_"No more memories of heartbreak,_

_let the past fall to it's grave,_

_It's over, gone forever,_

_and now we're here together,_

_Let me be your freedom,_

_let me take it all away,_

_I'll show you love and passion,_

_what forever means and laughter._

_Say you'll love me every waking moment,_

_turn my head with talk of summertime,_

_say you'll need me with you now and always,_

_promise me that I have all of you..._

_that's all I ask of you..."_

It was a familiar song with most of the words changed. People on the streets of Paris could not see the two masked individuals on the roof, but they could hear the voices tugging at their own heartstrings. Erik's voice rose on the wind, sending shivers down Dawn's spine.

_"All I want is freedom,_

_a world with no more night,_

_and you, always beside me_

_to hold me and to guide me,_

_Say you'll share with me_

_one love, one lifetime,_

_help to lead me from my solitude,_

_Say you need me with you,_

_here beside you,_

_anywhere you go, let me go too._

_That's all I ask of you..."_

The door behind them had opened just a crack as Meg and Madame Giry peered out, but neither Dawn nor Erik noticed as Squishie ran up to them, tail wagging. Their voices intertwined and rose together in a duet that outmatched anyone else's.

_"Say you'll share with me,_

_one love, one lifetime,_

_Say the word,_

_and I will follow you..._

_Share each day with me,_

_each night, each morning,_

_Anywhere you go, let me go too._

_That's all I ask of you..."_

Down below, the last of the guests were trailing home. Christine's head jerked up as she heard the faint voices being carried on the wind. Erik's voice sounded so different...she'd never heard joy in his voice before. She'd heard pain, sadness, bittersweet love, but never joy. A feeling that was completely alien to her rose in her chest, dark and ugly. She pushed it away and got in the carriage. Raoul got in beside her, squeezing her hand.

"The first Masque Ball we've had with no incidents whatsoever! Dawn is a Godsend!" Raoul remarked. Christine was silent, staring at the scenery passing by. Puzzled, Raoul wrapped his arm around her.

"Christine? Is something wrong?" he asked. She looked up at him, feeling guilty. There was so much concern in his face that it hurt.

"It's nothing," she said uneasily.

The wedding was going to be in a week. Christine's things had already been moved to a friend's house. Last night had been her last night at the Opera Populaire. She felt a pang of regret as she went to her temporary home. There had been so many things unresolved.

She couldn't help but wonder what would have been different if she'd chosen Erik.

Dawn and Erik eventually left the roof. Squishie was missing her puppies and wanted to get back to them. As soon as Dawn unlocked the door, Squishie pounced on all of them, kissing them as though it had been an eternity. Dawn giggled, watching her pick them up, one by one, and put them on the bed.

"She's a pretty good mother," Dawn commented, "she reminds me of my mother when she was actually home."

Erik's insides squirmed a little. He didn't have a point of reference and it was getting late. He didn't want to leave Dawn, but he knew he had to. She tried to stifle a yawn, but it didn't work.

"Goodness, what time is it?"

She looked at the clock. It was nearly sunrise.

"You know, we have the day off tomorrow," Dawn said, "want to go watch the sunrise?"

They went back up on the roof. Dawn was shivering a little bit. Erik wrapped his arm around her to keep her warm.

The sky lightened from black to navy blue to cerulean. A green streak appeared in the east. Gradually, it turned blood red, then orange. The sky turned a brilliant turquoise as streaks of pink, purple, and yellow coated the clouds.

Erik had watched the sunrise plenty of times, but it was different with someone else up here with him. Dawn was hanging onto wakefulness by a thread. He helped her up and they went back to Dawn's room. She was so tired that she was stumbling into things. Without thinking, Erik picked her up and carried her. She was considerably lighter now, probably due to all the dancing. He lay her down on the bed, but her arms did not let go of his shoulders, forcing him to sit down beside her.

"I should be going, Dawn," Erik whispered.

"No," Dawn mumbled, burying her face in his shoulder. Her hold tightened around him. Erik looked at the door. What if someone came in?

Squishie bounded up on one of the chairs by the door. With a "whuff" sound, she placed her front paws on the latch and pushed it down. Satisfied, she wagged her tail and jumped up on the bed with Dawn and Erik.

"Impressive trick," Erik commented. He took off Dawn's mask first, then his own. Then, he took his boots off and slipped Dawn's shoes off. She didn't even notice. Shifting her around so that there was more room, he lay her back against the pillows and drew the covers over both of them. Wrapping both arms protectively around her, he fell asleep as the golden sun shone through a crack in the curtains.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Once again, sorry for the wait. We've had some horrible electrical storms here, which means the computer stays unplugged. I hate lightning with a passion. Grrrrr. I would swear the weather has PMS this week. Ah, well. At least we're back online for a little while. Thanks to my loving reviewers who thought it was funny that Christine seems jealous (their words, not mine, but it did help to kill the writer's block as you can see by the sheer size of this chapter).

Erik: Don't you eat anything besides leftover pizza and Ramen noodles?

Me: What part of college student don't you understand?

Erik: sigh

Me: Well, on with the story.

Chapter 13

Dawn was the first to wake. It was late afternoon and she was disoriented at first. Then, she felt someone beside her. For a moment, she held really, really still, trying to decipher who it was. Then, her memory surfaced. Erik. She was with Erik.

Sometime during the night, she'd rolled onto her stomach. Her head was laying on Erik's chest and both of Erik's arms had curled protectively around her. She could feel his breath stirring her hair slightly and his ribs moved gently beneath her head. She was laying diagonal, her head and arms laying on him but her knees tucked in almost in the fetal position. Both arms were spread, embracing Erik. Dawn couldn't help but smile. It was the best she'd slept since she'd been here. Squishie was on Erik's other side with her head laying on Erik's stomach like a pillow. Beside her, the three puppies were all there with their faces buried against her. She was in absolutely no hurry to move; besides Erik still being here, the room was the perfect temperature, she was warm, and she was comfortable the way she was. Nearby, her iPod, always playing, sang "Hanging by a Moment" by Lifehouse. She grinned as line "I'm standing here until you make me move" came on.

She felt Erik's breathing change, which meant he'd woken up. For a moment, he tensed. Apparently, he'd worried about this all being a dream, too. Realizing that the weight of Dawn's head over his heart wasn't a dream, his hand moved to stroke her hair. She listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat for a moment, eyes closed. Eventually, they would have to move and they both knew it. Squishie took the initiative and jumped on both of them, giving them bad-breath doggy kisses. Dawn peeled the fluffy little monster off of her.

"Okay, okay, we get it," Dawn told her, "enough already."

Squishie wagged her tail.

"I would stay," Erik told her, "but I have some Opera House matters to attend to."

Dawn held out her arms to him. Erik held her for a moment before giving her a kiss. The familiar euphoria rose within his spirit.

"Have fun," Dawn teased, watching him go through the mirror. She went into the washroom to change her clothes and retrieved the dog leashes.

The dogs were happy to be outside. Dawn let them off their leashes for a little bit and they ran around and chased each other. Then, she took them back inside to feed them.

"Hello, dearest Dawn," a familiar but unpleasant voice said. Dawn whipped around. Jacques was standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Oh, uh, hi," Dawn said uneasily. The dogs started growling and they all stood in front of Dawn.

"Easy, you hairy little beasts," Jacques told them, "I won't touch her."

They went back to eating, but were still wary of him.

"What are you still doing here?" Dawn asked.

"I am a good friend of Andre's," Jacques said, smiling nastily, "I am entitled to certain privileges."

Dawn gave him a Look and poured herself a cup of coffee.

"I do hope you won't hold last night against me," Jacques said casually, "I was a little tipsy last night from the champagne."

"Just don't repeat it." Dawn stirred in her cream and sugar and tasted it. She tossed the spoon into the sink and downed half of it in one swallow.

Jacques allowed his snobbish mask to drop for a moment.

"Oh, Hell," he cursed, "it's not going to work for you, is it? You're not like other women."

Dawn stared at him over the rim of her cup. She put it down on the counter with more force than was necessary.

"What are you talking about?" Dawn asked, sounding slightly offended.

"It's my blasted father," he said irritably, "he wants me to be married soon, but I don't want to get married right now. Last night was only an act. I didn't mean to cause so much trouble."

Dawn grinned.

"Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes. Two creams and a sugar, please."

Dawn handed him the cup.

"You're not a very good actor," Dawn teased, "you actually made yourself look more insecure when you pushed."

She meant to make Jacques laugh, but he gave her a dark look. Her smile faltered. She got up to rummage through the cabinets for some leftovers.

"I'm sorry you're having such a hard time," she said, discovering a loaf of bread and some fresh fruit in a bowl, "but why can't you just tell your dad to back off? You're a full-grown man for God's sakes."

"I wish I could," he sighed, "but if I do it, I will lose my inheritance."

Dawn sat back down with her food.

"So what? Get a job."

Jacques folded his arms and looked at her as if she'd suddenly sprouted snakes for hair.

"Your society is so freaking messed up," Dawn complained, "I've never seen a group of people so worried about appearances and money. Isn't there always something you wanted to do?"

"I wanted to be a chef," Jacques lamented, "but my parents disapproved. They said I was to grow up and be a proper gentleman and that cooking was for servants only."

Dawn shook her head.

"Listen, Jack," she said, not able to pronounce his name correctly anyway, "if you want to be a chef, then be a chef. Go to school and learn how to cook. Follow your heart. You have to stop taking orders from mom and dad someday."

"I already know some secrets," he admitted, "our kitchen maids would give me cooking lessons when I was a child and my parents were away from home...which was quite a bit...but where will I find a job?"

"Well, our cook's about to leave. She didn't like Squishie much, but now that Squish has had puppies, she really is ticked. Let's ask Andre and Firmin if they'll hire you."

"They would not agree to that," Jacques objected. Dawn grinned an evil, plotting grin.

"Yes, they will."

"How do you know?"

Dawn grinned, hearing a shriek of surprise down the hall.

"Believe me," she said mysteriously, "I have my ways."

True to Dawn's word, Jacques was still reeling from shock when all of his things were moved to the opera house a week later.

"Now do you believe me?" Dawn asked.

"I cannot thank you enough!" Jacques picked Dawn up in a bear-hug.

"I'll say we're even if you stop trying to break me in half," Dawn gasped.

"Agreed." Jacques let her go and went to see his new room. Dawn inhaled deeply, thanking God for the luxury of oxygen. She watched Squishie and her puppies in the grass for a little while. They didn't have their leashes on, but Squishie kept them rounded up for the time being. The puppies had been weaned and were doing well. Dawn knew she'd have to find homes for them soon. They'd probably just end up being the opera house mascots.

The next carriage to arrive was one Dawn had seen many times: Raoul and Christine. Raoul came out first and paused to watch the hired men drag Jacques's things inside.

"What's going on here?" Raoul asked Dawn.

"We got a new cook," Dawn said, "that comes from a very well-off family. Our other one didn't like me very much and she hated Squishie, so it's better this way."

Raoul helped Christine out.

"How goes married life?" Dawn asked casually, trying to keep her voice nonchalant.

"It goes very well," Raoul said, knowing she was just making small talk, "I see Squishie's puppies are doing well."

"Yeah. We're working on finding homes for them. If not, we'll just keep them here," Dawn said, "they're very well-trained and they're the one thing the managers haven't griped me out over."

"Erik doesn't mind?" That remark was from Christine. Dawn felt what she referred to as the "record scratch expression" cross her face for a moment.

"Nope. He loves them."

Dawn's voice was a little more icy than she meant to sound.

"How are things with you and Erik?" Christine asked, returning the coldness.

"Fine," Dawn said quickly, "I think Andre and Firmin are expecting you guys."

Christine and Dawn tried to smile at each other, but beneath the formalities, heated flames were burning in Dawn's dark eyes.

"May I ask what that was about?" Meg asked when Christine and Raoul had gone.

"I think our diva has a case of the green-eyed monster," Dawn said, crossing her arms.

Meg looked puzzled.

"She's jealous," Dawn said angrily, "but it's her fault for letting him go in the first place. I'm tired of being good and pretending it's not going on because it is. I'm tired of getting those looks all the time. She pretends that she's afraid for my safety, but what she's really worried about is that Erik's going to forget her for good."

Meg said nothing through Dawn's rant session.

"I've known Christine for a very long time," she said when Dawn had quieted, "and she believes herself to be entitled to certain things. I believe Erik's attention is one of those things. She will never love him romantically, but she enjoys the attention and doesn't want you to get in the way."

Dawn's expression soured.

"Well, it's too late," Dawn grumbled, "he's mine and I'm his and we're equals."

They stayed outside on the steps for a few moments before returning inside. Neither of the young women knew what was happening.

Christine had managed to slip away from Raoul, claiming that she needed to use the bathroom. He let her go and continued to talk to Jacques, who was being a lot more of himself now that he didn't have to pretend to be a rich snob. She dashed right past her feigned destination and to the old dressing room. She hoped the entrance was still there and the way was still the same. Every lick of common sense that she had seemed to leave her-- she knew she shouldn't come down here again. She knew that she could potentially walk into a trap or get lost. She had no idea how Erik would react to her presence. And yet, she still kept going.

Despite the summer heat, it was chilly down here. Christine came to the edge of the water. Hoping it wasn't too deep, she took off her shoes and gathered her skirts until they bunched around her waist. Then, she descended into the frigid water. It came up to her thighs. By the time she had made into the central chamber, her legs were going numb, but she knew she'd found the right place. The canoe was still there.

Christine drew in a deep breath. How was she going to get in? The gate was closed. She'd have to figure out another way.

She waded past the gate and discovered a crevice in the wall. It was just large enough for her to squeeze through. She wondered how long that had been there.

Carefully, she eased herself through, but still managed to get a few scratches from the jagged edges of the stone. Hissing in pain, she emerged into the chamber.

Yes, he was still here. She could hear his organ music flowing out from where he was. The candles were all still lit, guttering when a breeze came along. The last time she'd been down here, she'd been frightened. This was more like the first time when she'd been feeling so enchanted. She knew she wasn't supposed to be here and the odds of her finding her way back up to the surface were slim because the directions were rapidly fading from her mind. She felt a childish impulse to giggle as all children do when they're doing something they know they're not supposed to. It was forbidden.

But it was so intoxicating.

She decided that she wouldn't try to get the Phantom's attention. She would only try to get a glimpse of him, then she'd leave and he'd never know she was here.

But how? If she risked getting up out of the water, he'd hear her. She cursed herself, remembering how good his hearing was. If anything was out of the ordinary, he would know.

Erik paused in playing his organ. His stomach had twitched, a sensation that wasn't normal to him. Although he could hear no sound, he could feel a breath being held somewhere. But where was that coming from? He sensed another presence in his chamber, and it definitely wasn't Dawn. Dawn's presence was calm, relaxed, and comforting as well as strong. This presence had a dash of fear to it, a bubble of excitement.

Christine.

His thoughts worked rapidly, trying to figure out what to do. Should he draw attention to the fact that he knew she was there? Or maybe just keep playing and pretend he didn't notice. In the end, Erik didn't exactly get a choice.

It started with the barking of Dawn's dogs. That was how he knew she was on her way. She knew multiple ways to get down here without having to go through the lake. Even then, they didn't usually bark although he could hear their claws clicking on the stone.

Dawn's footsteps were getting more audible behind them.

Fear filled Christine. What was she going to say if Dawn caught her? She was going to try and cross the lake, but Dawn's footsteps indicated that someone would see her if she moved from her hiding place in the shadows. She was stuck here.

"Guess what? We're all set! Jacques moved in today," Dawn announced as she descended the stairs, "I sure hope he's a better cook than that other one. Raoul and Christine are here, too, but Christine's been gone for a long time."

She turned to the barking dogs.

"What is your problem? You've all been down here before," Dawn scolded them. Instead of quieting however, Squishie and the pups took off. Christine, fearing that she would be caught, started to run. Unfortunately, one of Erik's traps got her and she was yanked beneath the water. She floundered around, but she couldn't get back up because her foot was caught in something. Dots exploded in front of her eyes and she felt herself begin to go unconscious. No one would ever find her now... she hoped Raoul could forgive her.

Just then, her hand brushed against a furry little body. Squishie, she guessed.

"What the Hell?" Dawn shouted when Squishie had jumped into the water, trying to get Dawn's attention. Dawn took her shoes off and dove in after her. A hand grabbed Dawn's shirt, scaring the crap out of her for a second. She went under the water. It was too dark to see who it was, but she knew it was a woman by the skirts billowing out. Her foot was caught in something. Dawn fumbled around until she felt the mechanism release. She grabbed the woman by the back of her dress and hauled her up.

It had happened so fast that Erik didn't have time to react. He was still standing there, wondering what was going on when Dawn resurfaced. She came up, coughing and spluttering, dragging the unconscious person with her. With Erik's help, she got her out of the water. Just as Dawn rolled back onto the stone surface, she made a face.

"Of course, it would be her," Dawn said irritably.

Erik turned the motionless figure over.

"Christine," he said softly, surprise and old pain in his voice.

Dawn sighed. She rammed a fist into Christine's back, much rougher than was necessary. Christine coughed and a stream of water poured out of her mouth. She came to, gasping and coughing. Erik went to get her a blanket to wrap up in.

"All right, start talking," Dawn said angrily. Christine looked up at her, her face going white.

"What are you doing down here?" Dawn asked, trying to be grateful she was okay and not lose her temper.

Erik returned with the red blanket that had been on the swan bed. Gently, he put it around her shoulders. She accepted it gratefully.

"Well?" Dawn demanded.

Instead of answering her question, she turned around to Erik, wrapped both arms around him, and buried her face his shoulder. Erik was too surprised to really react, but Dawn's face turned hot red. Squishie, sensing her owner's apprehension, began to growl.

Erik gently disentangled himself from Christine's grip.

"Why did you come here?" he asked her, not having his usual bad-tempered episode when someone managed to find their way down here.

"I came to see you," Christine admitted numbly, shivering more from fear and embarrassment than cold.

Questions burned in his eyes, which were now more blue than green, but they were gradually turning gold, meaning his anger would take over any second.

"Do you realize how dangerous these basements are? You could have landed in the other traps and no one would know where to find you!" Erik scolded her. Tears began to pour down Christine's face.

"Why will you let _her_ come down here, but not me?" Christine sounded like a child.

"For your information," Dawn snapped, "I have a map and I've also memorized where all these traps are. You just came down here on blind faith that nothing bad was going to happen to you. Does Raoul have any idea where you are?"

Christine shook her head miserably. She was going to be found out and she knew it. He would probably take this the wrong way and be angry with her. The others would probably notice that something was wrong, too.

Dawn saw Erik's anger deflate, but hers did not. Before Erik could embrace her, she yanked Christine away by one arm.

"Listen, let's get something straight right now," Dawn said firmly, "you made a decision, now you stick with it! You've got your man, I've got mine. I don't believe in sharing. I'm sick of you treating me like I'm not good enough, so cut the crap already! I may not be one of society's roses, but at least I can get by on what I have and what I know. I don't need everything handed to me because I work for it. I don't care if you and Erik are friends, I really don't. But I don't want you trying to take him away from me. I'm not a woman who goes around paranoid all day, but I know a slight when I see one. If I see it again, I won't be responsible for my actions."

Surprise had never showed on Erik's face the way it did now. Christine looked severely embarrassed by Dawn's blunt accusations. She huddled beneath the blanket as her face slowly changed to match its color.

Erik had never seen an interaction between two women like this before. He dared not interfere: he feared that Dawn's anger would prove to be a match for his.

Dawn turned to Erik, but she showed no anger towards him, only grave seriousness.

"I'm gonna take her back upstairs, okay?"

He nodded numbly.

Dawn yanked the red blanket off of Christine's shoulders.

"Sorry, but if they see that, they're going to know where it came from. The last thing you need is to get into trouble with those guys up there," she said, sounding more like an angry mother than an angry girlfriend. She grabbed Christine's arm and yanked her up the stairs. Erik watched them both go, emotions tumbling and conflicting with each other rapidly rising into his soul.

"Could you please let go?" Christine asked as Dawn continued her relentless pace up the stairs. Dawn's grip was unnecessarily tight on her arm.

"Not now! I'm trying to think of something to tell the guys so that Erik's not being blamed for this," Dawn snapped. Christine fell silent other than her panting from the physical exertion.

They emerged through the mirror in Dawn's room. Dawn roughly shoved Christine down in a chair and yanked her hairpins loose. She scrubbed at Christine's hair with a towel before brushing it out.

"You really love him, don't you?" Christine couldn't help but ask.

"Yes, I do," Dawn said irritably, rifling through her wardrobe to find a dress that might fit Christine, "I'd do whatever it takes to protect him. Even when he's mad, I'm not afraid of him. And I know what it's like to wake every day and wonder why the world hates you for something you can't help."

She found a light blue dress that would probably look good on Christine and handed it to her. She also gave her a towel for her soaked skin.

"I don't know what we're going to do for shoes," Dawn told her, "my feet are way bigger than yours. I guess we'll just have to get your ballet slippers, but that dress is long enough that no one would notice."

Christine poked her head around the side of the changing screen.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked suspiciously.

Dawn folded her arms across her chest.

"Because I don't like getting people in trouble," she said firmly, "and because I'm older and I've already been through all this stuff. I know what it's like to second-guess things. And I know what it's like to be a woman in general. I don't want Raoul being mad at you and I don't want him being mad at Erik. If they find out that you were down there, Raoul will never let you out of the house again because he's trying to protect you. Andre and Firmin will sick the police force on Erik again and I don't want him to be arrested or killed. They're going to question both of us and dig into details we don't want to give them. So I'm trying to help everyone. Not to mention that your name will be in the papers if they find out you've been down there again."

Dawn was surprised at just how much like her mother she sounded. Christine finished changing and came out.

"It's a little bit big, but not enough to matter," Dawn observed, "let's go find Raoul. And maybe a hot drink. Your skin's almost as blue as the dress."

Upon finding Raoul, Christine and Dawn presented him with a story of how she'd accidentally fallen into a washtub that someone had left in the hallway and how Christine had slipped and hit her head, knocking her out for a while. Dawn assured Raoul that she'd be fine with some rest and some hot tea. After getting her a cup, the happy couple went on their way to take Christine home to bed.

"Whew," Dawn breathed, collapsing onto a chair in the kitchen, "man, am I glad that's over!"

"She didn't really fall in a washtub, did she?" Jacques asked. Since they'd talked in the kitchen the morning after the masque, she and Jacques were becoming close friends.

"No," Dawn admitted, "she went downstairs trying to find Erik and got herself caught in one of his traps. I just didn't want to make a big deal out of it."

Jacques poured her a cup of hot tea and she accepted it gratefully.

"You must really love Erik to put up with her," Jacques said, cutting up some vegetables.

"I do," Dawn said, "I'd do anything for him and anything he asked. Sometimes things he doesn't, like protecting him. The question is, can I protect him from himself."

The tea was still too hot to drink, but Dawn swallowed some anyway, paying attention to the burn from her throat to her stomach. It felt like a reality check after the strange, almost dream-like quality of the situation.

"I'm glad it's Sunday," Dawn commented, "if this had happened on a practice day, I think I'd keel over from exhaustion."

She stirred her tea, letting it cool. Jacques playfully smacked at her hand when she reached for a bite-sized piece of potato.

"I won't have any vegetables left for tonight's dinner if you keep taking them," he teased, letting her have it.

"Oh, come on," Dawn scoffed, "I'm going to be the one dancing tomorrow. Madame Giry's making sure I burn off all the stuff I eat anyway."

Jacques grinned.

"Yes. Then you'll fall asleep in your plate just like last time."

Dawn stuck her tongue out at him.

"I was sleeping BESIDE my plate, for your information!"

He wasn't sure why he did it, but he kissed her. Dawn jerked backwards, awkwardly falling out of the chair she was sitting on.

"Hey, now," Dawn protested, "I hope that was just meant to shut me up."

"It was," Jacques said awkward, flushing bright red.

"Well, it worked," Dawn teased, "but I wouldn't do it again. Next time, I might have a rolling pin in my reach."

Jacques grinned again, the awkwardness seeping out of the moment.

"You wouldn't dare use my own tools against me!"

"Oh, yes I would! I once rolled up a page of sheet music and whacked Erik over the head with it," Dawn cautioned him, laughing.

After their verbal sparring match was over, Dawn went back upstairs. The day's events had drained her energy and she knew she needed to rest for tomorrow. Just as she entered her room and closed the door, Erik emerged from the mirror.

"Dawn," he said awkwardly, his heart in his throat, "are you angry with me?"

"Should I be?" she responded sarcastically.

Erik squirmed and she held out her arms for him.

"No," she said truthfully, "I'm not."

He hugged her gratefully.

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," she said, "I could tell at the Masque party that she wasn't exactly thrilled with us being together."

"Most of them weren't," he reminded her.

She kissed him.

"I brought the dogs back," Erik told her.

"Thanks."

Another kiss, although this one was more heated. Alien sensations were surging through Erik's body. Dawn sensed it, but she wasn't entirely sure she wanted it to stop.

_No,_ Erik thought, _I want her. I want her so much, but not here. Not like this. Not where we constantly have to worry about-_

His thoughts were cut short by a knock. Erik dashed back into the mirror and closed it just as the door opened. To his relief, it was only Meg.

"The costume makers are taking measurements today," Meg said, "why are you so flushed?"

Dawn hurriedly opened a window.

"It's kind of warm in here," she lied. Giving the mirror an apologetic look, she left with Meg.

Erik felt all of the air drain out of his lungs. He was going to have to gain some self-control and he knew it.

Dawn may have been different than other women, but she deserved something special. It had been a year since they'd met. He wondered vaguely if it had been long enough.

The ring he'd gotten for Christine was gone. He couldn't remember what he'd done with it, but in its place was a new ring, a gold band with a heart-shaped diamond in the center. He toyed with it as he made his way back downstairs.

He wondered if he should even consider asking.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Just a warning, summer break is coming up. Once I leave this campus later next week, it will be roughly three weeks before I can get an update in due to lack of internet. I hope you guys don't go too crazy without me here, but I promise I WILL return. I've not given up on any of my stories. Hang in there!

Erik: sighs miserably Must I go on vacation with you?

Me: grins while sitting on an overstuffed suitcase You bet. Unless you want to be stuck here with nothing but Ramen noodles and textbooks for company. I'm still going to be writing, you know.

Erik: (sighs) "Fine. But I am NOT going on the beach with you."

Me: (laughs) "Your loss. You'll be stuck in the travel trailer with my parents."

Erik: (groans) "It's going to be a long summer break."

Chapter 14

Christine was silent as she and Raoul rode side by side in the carriage. Her hair was still damp and despite the heated summer air, she was still chilled.

"Christine, are you sure you don't want the doctor to check on you?" Raoul asked, wrapping his arm around her, "You look so pale."

"I'll be fine," she insisted, although not very convincingly.

He pulled her into his lap and wrapped both arms around her. She rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. His arms felt warm and secure around her.

"Christine, I feel as though I've been neglecting you with all of this opera house business," Raoul said, his hand sliding back and forth over her back, "why don't we both take a day off tomorrow and go somewhere else for the day? Some sunlight and fresh air would do you good."

Christine mumbled an agreement. The idea of warmth, outdoors, and sunshine chased Erik's masked face and the freezing water out of her mind. She remembered hoping for a world with no more night.

Once they got home, a worried Raoul insisted that she stay in bed for a little while. Someone drew her a hot bath. Upon sliding beneath the bubbles, Christine found herself feeling much better as the warmth soaked into her limbs. She lay her head back against the edge of the tub. After a little while, she got out because she was getting sleepy. Under a layer of blankets in an impossibly huge bed, Christine drifted off to sleep, still wondering why Dawn had bothered to get her out of such a mess.

"She did?" Meg was awed. Dawn was recounting Christine's accident to her while they were taking the dogs out for a walk.

"Yeah. She actually went all the way down there by herself. I'm surprised she got stuck in the trap so close to us. If not, she'd have been a curly-haired bit of history," Dawn said, "she acts like a kid."

"She's only eighteen," Meg told her. Dawn shook her head.

"God, no wonder. I'm twenty-one," she said irritably, "I thought I knew everything at that age, too."

The sun was going down and it was time to head back to the opera house.

"She'll come out of it, I'm sure," Dawn said, trying to convince herself more than Meg.

Meg was older than Christine, but not by much. She acted more mature for her age, though.

Dawn went back upstairs to her room. She was so tired that all she wanted to do was sleep. She flopped face-first onto her bed and didn't move all night, not even when a familiar pair of hands drew the covers over her.

Opening night was upon them again. October would be approaching soon, meaning that it wouldn't be so hot. Dawn was relieved; she never missed central air conditioning as much as she did during that summer. She was tired of being coated in sweat every day. This was Dawn's third opera. She was giving herself a once-over look in the mirror and straightening her costume when Christine appeared behind her.

"I never got a chance to thank you," Christine said haltingly, "for what you did last week."

Dawn shrugged.

"It was nothing."

Christine wasn't sure what else to say, so she just left. Madame Giry appeared next.

"He waits for you in Box 5," she told her, "he can't wait to see you."

She handed Dawn the customary red rose with the black ribbon. Dawn grinned.

"Tell him I said meet me on the roof," Dawn said.

Madame gave her a knowing nod and left to deliver the message.

The opera went off without a single hitch. Dawn realized that she had, for the most part, conquered her stage fright, although she never got used to being in crowds. With some difficulty, she managed to change her clothes and slip up to the roof without being noticed.

"You can come out now," Dawn called to a seemingly empty roof. She looked around, then laughed. There was an angel-shaped statue nearby and Erik was resting comfortably in the arms as though the angel were carrying him cradle-style.

"Good hiding spot," she commented as he slid down from it, "I'd have never thought of that."

"I've hidden like this several times," he informed her, "once when you came up here to practice. I stayed there the whole hour and you never noticed me, not even when my cape became loose and started blowing in the wind."

Dawn laughed.

"I can't believe I never noticed that."

He embraced her.

"I wish I knew some of your tricks," Dawn admitted, "it's a little scary sometimes how you come from nowhere."

Erik ran his fingers over her cheek. She turned her face towards it, enjoying his touch.

"If you stay long enough," he whispered, "I will show you."

Dawn drank in the feeling of his arms around her. For years, she had dreamed of someone like him. Now, here he was. His body was warm and solid, a reality that exceeded any comfort her dreams could give her.

Erik felt as though this would be the perfect time, but he still wasn't sure.

"I'm not going anywhere anytime soon," Dawn assured him. The moon was almost directly behind Erik, silhouetting him in silver light against black shadows. It lit up part of his mask, making him seem like an ethereal story-book creature instead of human. There was definitely a bit more to him than ordinary men.

She kissed him, feeling the heat rise in her blood. With a start, she realized that he had pinned her against the wall.

_Oh, boy...is this it? Am I really ready for this?_ Dawn wondered.

It wasn't. He gently pulled away. Something in Dawn's soul cried out in frustration when he did.

"Wha-?" she started to ask, but he silenced her by placing a finger on her lips. She looked up at him.

It was too much for any man to take. The moonlight lit her face, emphasizing the softness of her blonde curls, the slight flush on her cheeks, and her lips, which had turned dark in response to his kiss. Curiosity and want glowed in her dark eyes.

It was something he never thought he'd see. Ever. That was why he couldn't bring himself to destroy it.

"There is something I've meant to ask," Erik said uneasily, "but I do not know how."

Dawn shrugged, coming closer, dark eyes still locked on his. They were the same uncertain shade of blue-green that they'd been the day they'd met.

"Give it a shot," Dawn told him.

He took her hand, placed the ring in it, then curled her fingers around it. She opened her hand, gazing at the sparkling stone in the moonlight.

"Well? Are you just going to stand there and sweat or are you going to put it on my finger?" she asked.

It was a good thing that the night was still or Erik would have blown away with the wind. He was so surprised that his hands shook as he placed the ring on Dawn's finger.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked her.

"I'm sure," she said, taking his hands in hers.

"I love you."

It was the first time he dared say it since Christine gave him back the first ring. But this time, there were no tears involved.

Dawn smiled. Despite his mask, she could see a glimpse of his soul in that moment.

"I love you, too."

Plans weren't made yet, but Erik, for the first time, felt as though the dark mist that coated his soul had begun to lift.

Fall quickly faded into winter. The cast was preparing to do one final show before the Opera House closed for the winter: it was to tell the Christmas story.

During casting, an interesting event happened: Andre and Firmin were going to cast Christine as the singing angel, but Christine objected.

"Why not?" they demanded.

"Well, Monsieurs, Raoul and I," she said, placing her hands over her stomach, "are expecting."

The room became instantly silent. Dawn was the first to speak.

"How far along are you?" she asked.

"Just three months," Christine smiled, "the doctor came yesterday."

One of the stage managers elbowed Raoul in the ribs, giving him a hard time. Raoul flushed brightly. Dawn could feel Erik somewhere in the premises shaking his head and laughing at his modesty.

"So, who will be the angel?" The debate continued.

Madame Giry and Meg both looked at Dawn.

"Me? That's funny," Dawn snorted.

"Fine. Dawn is the angel," someone else said, writing it down.

Practice began immediately. Even though they had a month to prepare, practice began immediately. Dawn was so tired at night that Erik didn't get to visit with her very much. The few times that he did, she usually fell asleep in his arms.

Christine was instead cast as Mary and Pierre was cast as Joseph. They decided that they would just borrow someone's baby to play Jesus.

But this odd month was just getting started.

As all early practices go, this one was a train wreck as usual. Everyone knew their lines and so forth, but they were confused as to who went where on the stage. Dawn, as the angel, was supposed to be suspended from a rope. The goofy stage hands were drunk again and she'd been flung every direction except where she was supposed to go. By the time a frustrated Madame Giry yelled for a break, Dawn was feeling decidedly motion sick. Erik appeared in the rafters to give the stage hands a good scare. What he ended up doing was accidentally causing them to drop her.

"Ow," Dawn groaned, trying to get up. Erik internally cursed himself for causing that accident and vowed to check on her the next chance he got.

"Are you all right?" Meg asked.

"Nothing broken but my butt," Dawn grunted, hauling herself to her slippers. She stretched a little bit, then limped away.

Outside in the lobby, there was chaos. Everyone went thundering down the stairs to go see what it was. Erik slipped through some of his secret passageways and emerged near the entrance.

One of the other ballet girls was pointing with a trembling finger at a small bundle that was stirring fretfully. Squishie bounded towards it and sniffed at it. She went back to Dawn, clawing at her legs. Dawn descended the stairs after her and lifted the edge of the blanket.

"My God!" Dawn exclaimed, her face paling. She scooped it up and carried it over to the others. They shied away.

Blood had soaked the white blanket. The infant that it contained was a newborn; its cord had just been cut and someone hadn't bothered to tie it. Dawn removed the scrunchie from her hair and tied it closed. The infant wasn't crying as most newborns would; it was barely whimpering. Most newborns were red, but this one was pale white, almost blue.

"Somebody get a doctor!" Dawn yelled, clutching it to her chest.

Raoul went tearing out the door. Christine ventured closer.

"It's a girl," Dawn told her, "somebody left this sweet baby girl here without even tying off her cord."

Tears were glistening in Dawn's eyes. She couldn't believe this. Babies were so innocent- who would do such a thing?

"Please go get me a clean blanket," Dawn told her. Christine left.

Dawn retrieved a clean rag and sponged away the blood. The baby shivered and protested, moving her tiny hands and kicking.

"Sorry," Dawn winced, "I'll cover you up in just a second."

Christine returned with a clean blanket and Dawn wrapped the baby up in it. She clutched the shivering infant against her chest.

Raoul returned with a middle-aged man carrying a medical bag. Dawn reluctantly handed over the infant.

"This child has lost a lot of blood," he said grimly, "and she's been exposed to the bitter cold. It will be a miracle if she survives the night."

He cauterized the cord shut, but warned Dawn not to expect too much. He gave her some basic instructions on what to do for the baby, but he said that it was unlikely that she would survive. Then, he stuck his hand out for the fee and left.

Dawn was furious.

"We'll show him, won't we?" she asked the baby in her arms.

Raoul and Christine left, then returned with some baby supplies. Everyone in the opera house was whispering about the whole affair, which angered Dawn more.

She sat on the edge of her bed, holding the bottle to the baby's mouth. She'd already named the baby Elizabeth.

"Please eat," she begged, "I'm trying to help you."

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Dawn said dejectedly. Squishie whined and nudged at the baby's hand with her nose. She seemed to understand Dawn's pain.

Christine cautiously opened the door.

"I just came to see if you have everything you need," Christine said slowly.

"Yeah, pretty close," Dawn said, "the only thing I'm missing is a miracle right now."

Christine stared at the baby in her arms for a moment.

"Does Erik know?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Dawn said, setting the bottle down, "he hasn't been up here yet."

Dawn had wrapped the baby up in a pile of blankets so that she wouldn't get cold. She'd set the blankets on the hearth of the fireplace so that they would be warm.

"Everyone's going to think that this is your child," Christine warned her. Dawn gave her a Look.

"I don't give a flying flip what they think," Dawn said acidly, "because she _is_ mine. I found her."

Christine was filled with admiration for the stubborn blonde woman. She ventured closer so that she could see the baby. Her eyes were closed and she was very still. She had such a pale face that it looked like death had already claimed her.

"Even if she doesn't make it," Dawn said, stroking her cheek with one finger, "at least I'll know I tried. That's more than I can say for whoever left her here."

Christine thought about her own baby that was still growing inside her.

"It's the coolest thing in the world," Dawn said, "I look at Elizabeth and I know that she could be anyone when she grows up. She could end up running this opera house or she could do something else. Somewhere in there, there is a very strong spirit that just needs a chance to grow."

Dawn held her breath when Elizabeth stirred. She didn't cry, she just whimpered. Dawn cautiously lifted the bottle to her mouth again, surprised when some of the milk began to disappear.

Christine smiled. Squishie wagged her tail. Despite the fact that Squishie didn't really care for Christine most of the time, she put both paws on Christine's knee, asking to be petted. Christine scratched her behind the ears.

"Well, then, Squishie, I did not think you liked me that much," Christine told her. Squishie made a "whuff" sound.

"She says we're supposed to be a team," Dawn said, "all of us working together."

Right on cue, the three puppies joined their mother in trying to get Christine's attention. Meg came upstairs soon after and they were happy to see her, too.

"How's the baby?" Meg asked.

"Well, I got her to eat a little bit," Dawn said, sounding relieved, "I think-"

She trailed off, then held Elizabeth up.

"Did you do that?" she asked.

Everyone laughed.

"At least we know that part's working," Dawn joked, "time to change the diaper."

She went in the washroom with Elizabeth.

"Does she really think she can raise a baby in an opera house?" Meg whispered to Christine.

"Why not? I did," Madame Giry said, coming in.

Dawn returned with Elizabeth.

"All right," she said, "she's clean again for the time being."

Elizabeth began to whimper again. Dawn lay her over her shoulder gently and rubbed her back. She paced the floor, still holding her.

"I heard you a second ago," Dawn said to Meg, "and the truth is, I don't know how. I'm kind of making this up as I go. I have no idea what Erik thinks of kids and I just really don't know what's going to happen. All I know is that I really care about this kid and I'm going to do what it takes to make sure she's okay. True, our family's not the traditional type: we have a bunch of ballet dancer slash chorus girls, a few actors and actresses, a few ballet instructors, an opera ghost, four dogs, and a girl who sticks out like a sore thumb and doesn't know what the heck she's doing, but we can make this work with what we have. We really can."

"You're getting quite good at capturing strays," Christine commented. Everyone chuckled.

"I suppose I am," Dawn said nonchalantly, "but I guess my one talent is that I can see beauty in places other people don't normally look."

Elizabeth was getting sleepy. Dawn continued to pace the floor with her, not willing to put her down for the time being.

_Erik's probably going to kill me,_ Dawn thought, _but he'll have to wait until tomorrow._

She began to sing a song that she'd sung frequently during her stint as a maid. Meg and Christine had heard the song so often that they joined her at times. Even Madame Giry got in on it in places.

(Dawn sang) "Oh, why you look so sad?

"The tears are in your eyes,

come on and come to me, now,

Don't be ashamed to cry,

Let me see you through

because I've seen the dark side too,

(Meg joined in): And when the night falls on you

(Christine sang): and you don't know what to do

(Everyone sang): Nothing you confess

can make me love you less...

I'll stand by you...

I'll stand by you...

won't let nobody hurt you...

I'll stand by you...

(Dawn): So, if you're mad, get mad!

Don't hold it all inside,

come on and talk to me, now...

Hey, what you got to hide?

I get angry, too,

(Meg): Let me come along,

even if you're wrong

(Everyone) I'll stand by you...

I'll stand by you...

won't let nobody hurt you...

I'll stand by you...

(Christine and Meg): And when the night falls on you,

and you're feeling all alone,

you won't be on your own...

(Everyone)I'll stand by you...

I'll stand by you...

won't let nobody hurt you...

I'll stand by you...

(Christine): Take me into your darkest hour,

(Meg): And I'll never desert you,

(Dawn): I'll stand by you...

Elizabeth's breath had deepened and slowed. Dawn grinned. She was asleep.

"Hey, Meg? Would you mind taking Squishie and the others outside? I normally take them out right now, but I don't want to leave the baby."

The dogs eagerly followed Meg with no problem. Christine went with her, claiming she needed some air. Madame Giry cast the mirror a knowing look and said she had some things to do. Dawn was left alone with the baby, but not for long. As she expected, she heard the mirror slide open.

"I take it you've seen everything that's going on?" Dawn asked.

"Yes."

She was genuinely afraid to ask him what he thought. As she turned to face him, he could see the different emotions fluctuating in her eyes. First, there was fear. That was probably due to her not knowing his reaction. Then, there was firmness, showing that she would stand her ground no matter what he said or did. Then, there was hope. She hoped he would accept this baby as hers since she'd claimed it.

Erik stared at the bundle in Dawn's arms. He knew too well what it felt like to be tossed away and unwanted. His insides felt as though they were shrinking for a moment. Would the baby grow to accept him as she got older? Or would she fear him as most children did? It was uncertain.

"What's her name?"

Tears glistened in Dawn's dark eyes.

"Elizabeth," she choked out, "it was the only thing I could think of at the time."

Erik lifted the corner of the cloth as gently as he could to get a look at her. He gazed at her little round face for a moment before covering her back up.

Erik rarely found beauty in babies. They couldn't talk or do anything for themselves, they cried constantly, they had to be fed frequently, and then there was that dreaded diaper change. When they got a little bit older, they had to be taught how to do everything and even then sometimes had accidents. They would be noisy and loud and disruptive.

But there was something endearing about how Dawn had immediately taken charge of the situation. She was already fiercely protective of this child and it wasn't even hers. She spoke of Elizabeth to the others as though the baby was the greatest gift that could be given to her.

Dawn squirmed uncomfortably. She really needed to go to the bathroom, but she couldn't go with the baby still in her arms.

"Could you take her for just a second?" Dawn asked.

He wasn't sure when he'd actually taken the baby, but he looked down and realized that he had her and that Dawn had gone tearing off to the washroom and closed the door.

Elizabeth, sensing the change, whimpered. Erik cringed. What if she started crying? He rubbed her back in small circles and she got quiet again. He forced himself to try and relax. She whimpered again and he shifted her to the "cradle hold". Very, very carefully, he rocked her back and forth and she fell asleep again. Deciding he'd be more comfortable sitting, he sat down on the couch by the fire. For a split second, Elizabeth's eyes opened. As with most European babies, her eyes were a glassy blue right now. She looked straight at him before they closed. Despite her eyes being closed again, her little hand somehow managed to free itself from the blanket. It waved around for a moment before landing on his chest over his heart. Elizabeth must have felt his heart pounding because she made a little noise.

Dawn emerged, feeling much better. She stopped when she watched Erik with Elizabeth. She couldn't see his expression very well because his mask was in the way, but she could sense something going on in his mind.

It was going to be an interesting year.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

A/N: Well, I'm back. Vacation didn't turn out to be much of a vacation; my mother got sick and I spent three weeks taking care of her. And there was no Internet to be had in the middle of nowhere, which was where we were staying.

Erik: (Stares at the map with disdain) Is this even a real place?

Me: Unfortunately. (finishes packing the suitcases) But, we're out of here and I bet all the Phangirls will be thrilled to hear from us again.

Erik: (stretches his back until it pops) And I don't have to hide in the closet anymore. Thank God!

Chapter 15

Erik wasn't sure what to think. He'd never been around babies before. He'd seen Meg when she was a baby, but he'd never been up close like this. As he reentered his lair, he still felt the warm imprint that she'd made on his arms and chest.

Dawn had stood in the doorway and watched for a few minutes. Then, Elizabeth had started to cry. She'd taken the baby and tried to feed her again. That wasn't what she wanted. Then, she'd rubbed her back, thinking maybe she just had a tummy ache. That must have been it because she fell asleep again after that. Erik promised her he'd be back later. Since Erik was a night-owl anyway, he had reluctantly offered to help watch over the baby so that Dawn could get some sleep. She'd told him how sweet he was and gave him a kiss that was well worth putting up with a crying baby for half a night.

He began to wonder when they were going to get married. She hadn't suggested a date yet and most women would have been feverishly plotting out details. If there was a God, Erik thanked Him for Dawn being so simple and easy to please. They had yet to argue over something stupid. In fact, they had yet to argue at all.

He sat down at his organ to play for a little while, surprised at the softness of the melody. Most of what he wrote sounded nothing like this. Usually, his tunes were darker and more dramatic. Curious, he wrote down the notes anyway and put those sheets of music aside for now.

His internal clock told him it was time to go back upstairs. Reluctantly, he lay his pen down and pulled the cover over the keys. Dawn would be waiting for him.

As he navigated the numerous tunnels, he thought about what life might be like with Elizabeth. If she was raised around him, she might not think twice about his mask. He could teach her to sing just as he was teaching Dawn and Madame Giry could teach her to dance. By the time he approached the last tunnel, his thoughts were filled with tiny pink ballet slippers and a little girl's giggling voice.

Someone had been kind enough to bring them some dinner and Dawn was sitting at the small table by the window with Elizabeth in her lap. She'd just gotten started when Erik came in and sat down in the other chair.

"I'm so glad you got back up here," Dawn said gratefully, "I was beginning to think you'd bailed on me."

He wasn't sure what "bailed" meant, but he assumed it was "ran away" or "avoided".

"I was distracted," he admitted, "writing music."

"Oh. All right."

She sounded as though she believed him.

"Well, help yourself," she said, "they brought enough up here to feed an army."

It was nice to get a hot meal once in a while. They ate in silence, filling their empty stomachs. When Dawn was done, she took Elizabeth to the washroom to change her diaper again.

"For somebody who's deathly ill, you sure are using up a lot of diapers," Dawn told her. For a moment, she was sure that the infant smiled.

When she returned, Erik was sitting on the couch by the fireplace.

"I know they said she's not going to make it," Dawn told him, "but I don't believe them. She seems too, well, alive, to die tonight. I can't explain it; it's just a feeling."

Elizabeth's little hand wrapped around Dawn's finger and squeezed it.

"See? Look at this," Dawn said, "she's got a good grip for being just born."

Erik nodded. He leaned closer to look at the tiny bundle.

"You want to hold her?" Dawn asked.

Erik was going to object, but he couldn't come up with a good enough excuse. She eased Elizabeth into his arms.

Elizabeth didn't cry. She made a noise, but it didn't sound like a whimper. He watched as her little pink mouth opened up in a yawn.

He turned his head to look at Dawn. She'd leaned her head back against the back of the couch and closed her eyes.

Very, very carefully, he eased Elizabeth down onto the couch, then got up and scooped Dawn up. He eased her onto her bed and pulled the covers over her. Elizabeth whimpered, so he went to get her. He sat down in the rocking chair beside the bed and rocked gently.

He began to get sleepy. Deciding that Dawn wouldn't have an issue with it, he lay down on the bed beside her, the baby between them.

Neither Dawn nor Erik slept very well that night. They both woke constantly to make sure that the baby was still breathing. Sunrise seemed so far off that it was ridiculous. At last, the sleepy sun rose over the tops of the buildings.

Erik was accustomed to not sleeping much, but Dawn looked absolutely haggard. She seemed to have aged ten years that night.

The familiar sounds of the opera house stirring awake came through the door.

"We did it," she choked out, looking torn between laughter and tears, "she lived."

Elizabeth was not only alive, but crying. She was probably ready for breakfast. Madame Giry decided that they would practice the scenes without Dawn in them so that she could get some rest. During the rest of the day, Dawn only woke up to eat, use the bathroom, or take care of Elizabeth. The rest of the time, she was out cold. Erik kept watch over both of them, occasionally laying a hand on Elizabeth's belly to make sure she still breathed.

By the next day, Dawn had all of her energy back. She kept Elizabeth on a pile of blankets at the edge of the stage so that she could run back to her if she needed to. Jacques was a big help in keeping heated bottles of milk on hand for her and the ballet girls who weren't practicing were always happy to go retrieve one. Erik made himself scarce that day and Dawn wondered what he was up to.

Opening night, she knew, was going to be a serious challenge. Madame Giry agreed to take the baby while Dawn was onstage. The traditional red rose with the black ribbon was laying on her dresser as she got into her costume. She couldn't help but smile.

Her angel costume was fitted to keep the robes from getting tangled in the rope she'd be flying around on. They were made of white satin with gold trim. The dress was longer to keep her lower half from showing should anything happen and her slippers were also gold satin. Some of the girls had helped her to fix her hair and it cascaded onto her shoulders in a mass of neat curls. Her halo was a small headband with white downy feathers and the actual halo part stuck a little bit above her head shining gold in the light. Her wings were made out of actual bird feathers to make them look as real as possible and she had glitter on her face. Erik, as usual, hid himself backstage to see Dawn before going to his favorite box.

In the soft candlelight with the finished angel costume on, she really did look like an angel as she rocked Elizabeth to sleep. Once the baby was sleeping, she carefully handed her to Madame Giry and went to take her place.

This one actually progressed with no mistakes whatsoever. Erik was quite surprised that absolutely nothing was out of order. Then came the scene where Mary (Christine) was supposed to give birth to baby Jesus. Dawn swung out of the rafters with a grace she usually didn't possess. Instead of using the song that went with the opera, she had asked permission to substitute one that she already knew and it worked out very well. The music was very soft and slow.

_"Said the night wind to the little lamb,_

_do you see what I see?_

_Way up in the sky, little lamb..._

_do you see what I see?_

_A star, star, dancing in the night with_

_a tail as big as a kite?_

_With a tail as big as a kite..."_

One of the little girls that had been brought here to study ballet was dressed like a lamb. It was her very first stage performance and she took it very seriously. She danced towards a teenage boy who was training to be a tenor.

Erik was fascinated. He forgot that these people were simply actors. The magic of a good performance engulfed him and for a moment, he believed that Dawn really was an angel.

_"Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy_

_do you hear what I hear?_

_Ringing through the sky shepherd boy?_

_Do you hear what I hear?_

_A song, a song! High above the trees_

_with a voice as big as a sea,_

_with a voice as big as the sea..._

The other chorus members came out. The teenage tenor pretended to be shouting up to a king on the balcony. He harmonized with Dawn as the music began to swell.

_"Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king_

_do you know what I know? (Do you know what I know)_

_In your palace warm mighty king?_

_Do you know what I know? (Do you know what I know)_

_a child, a child, shivers in the cold _

_let us bring him silver and gold,_

_let us bring him silver and gold._

Elizabeth began to whimper. They'd decided to let her be baby Jesus for the purpose of the play. Erik could see Dawn's face twitch for a moment; she was worried about her. The rest of the chorus began to sing backup to Dawn.

_"Said the king to the people everywhere..._

_listen to what I say! (Listen to what I say!)_

_Pray for peace, people everywhere! _

_Listen to what I say! (Listen to what I say!)_

_A child, a child, sleeping in the night,_

_he will bring us goodness and light..._

_he will bring us goodness and light..._

The music slowed and softened as Dawn sang the last line.

"He will bring...us...goodness...and light."

The opera/play was over. The cast took a bow and Dawn was lowered to the stage. Elizabeth began to wail and Dawn scooped her up, gave the audience a smile over her shoulder, and hurried backstage.

"All right, all right," Dawn said to Elizabeth, " just a second."

She unfastened Elizabeth's diaper and made a face.

"Good lord, kid! What did Meg and Madame Giry feed you?"

She disposed of the soiled diaper as quickly as she could and cleaned Elizabeth up.

"I bet you feel better now, don't you?" Dawn asked. She had just pinned the diaper in place when she heard the dressing room mirror slide open.

"Is Elizabeth all right?" Erik asked.

"Oh yeah, she's fine. She just had a loaded diaper, that's all. I gotta remind Jacques not to give her anymore fruit juice. There's a party going on, but I won't be able to stay long. It'll be past this young lady's bed time."

Elizabeth grunted as if to say "oh, come on, Mom!"

Dawn removed the baby Jesus costume and pulled a tiny golden dress over Elizabeth's head.

"Meg had the costume maker do it as an early Christmas present. Look, we match!" Dawn held Elizabeth so that Erik could see. Despite the fact that Erik didn't really care for children, Elizabeth was beginning to grow on him.

"I have something for Elizabeth also," Erik said, removing something from his pocket. He took her from Dawn and she couldn't really see what he was doing. When he handed her back to Dawn, on Elizabeth's once bare feet were a pair of tiny ballet slippers.

"Aww, how sweet! I guess she really is the Opera House baby now," Dawn laughed. Erik held out his arms for a hug and Dawn and Elizabeth slid into his embrace perfectly.

Madame Giry poked her head in. The sight that she came upon simply fascinated her: the Phantom, the Angel, and the child. She smiled and waited another minute before calling Dawn.

Outside, the party was in full swing. Squishie and her not-so-little puppies were begging scraps of food off of people. Christine was glowing in her pregnancy and Raoul was a nervous wreck, asking her every five seconds if she was okay. Andre and Firmin were already tipsy and getting more and more smashed by the minute. Dawn had removed her wings and halo but left her gold and white gown on. Someone offered her some champagne, but she politely declined and had a mug of hot tea instead. Everything was going perfect.

Until the police showed up. Dawn had a sinking feeling when she saw them and was going to slip off to the dressing room and disappear, but they saw her halfway and came towards her. Knowing it would be unwise to run, Dawn tried to keep her breath calm. She was confused as to why they were coming after her in the first place. They were followed by a red-haired woman and a dark-haired man. Both looked like rich snobs.

"May I help you?" Dawn asked.

"We've been informed that someone found a baby near the opera house a few weeks ago," the officer said, "Baron and Baroness Welsh have lost a child and have been anxiously searching for him."

Dawn clutched Elizabeth tighter to her chest.

"You must be mistaken, sir, because this baby is a girl."

"Did you give birth to her, Madame? Can your husband vouch for you?"

Dawn frowned.

"No, I didn't give birth to her and I don't have a husband, but I adopted her and-"

Before she could finish, the officer took the baby and handed her to the Baroness.

"You cannot adopt a child if you are not married, Madame. Good day."

With that, the three of them began to walk away. Dawn chased after them.

"Wait a minute! You can't take that baby! That baby's mine! If you wanted her so damn much, why did you leave her in the cold to die?"

The music stopped abruptly.

"Madame, you are on dangerous ground! If you do not be quiet, I will be forced to arrest you!"

Dawn stared at him, open-mouthed.

"If you're going to arrest someone, why don't you arrest them for leaving Elizabeth! That's attempted murder!"

He grabbed Dawn roughly by the arms and hauled her away from the crowd.

"WAIT! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" Dawn yelled, her voice breaking as tears started to come to her eyes.

"What are we going to do?" Meg asked Madame Giry.

"Go find Raoul and Christine, tell them what has happened. I will get Erik."

Squishie chased after them, growling and biting at their heels. The officer kicked Squishie and she fell to the ground, unconscious. Dawn let out a cry of anguish and tore away from the officer. He jumped on her, tackling her just as she reached Squishie. She managed to scoop Squishie up just as they shoved her out the door.

Whispers filled the room, some of outrage for the way they'd treated Dawn, some of scandal. Erik emerged in the shadows, unseen as always. No, they would not get away with this.

"Get in there!"

They threw a struggling Dawn into the cell. Dawn was crying so hard that she couldn't move for a second, holding Squishie. There was nothing here but stale straw and the smell of urine. She shuddered, trying to revive Squishie.

"Please, Squishie, wake up!" Dawn whispered, her throat stinging. Some of the other prisoners jeered at her and made cat-calls, but she ignored them. Slowly, Squishie revived. She whimpered because her head hurt. Dawn kissed the side of her head gently.

"I'm so sorry, Squish," Dawn whispered. The dog gently licked her cheek as if to say "it's not your fault".

"We can't let her stay in there," Raoul said as the carriage neared the courthouse, "she may be strange at times, but she doesn't deserve to be in prison. By the way, where is the Opera Ghost?"

Madame Giry gave them a knowing look.

"He is taking a different route."

Christine shivered slightly, but no one noticed.

They reached the courthouse in no time. Madame Giry, Christine, and Raoul went in the front. Madame looked to the left and noticed a shadow passing. She knew without a doubt that it was Erik.

"I've come to collect someone," the Vicomte said to the man at the desk in the front.

"Whom?" he said boredly.

"A woman by the name of Dawn. She's wearing a gold dress."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," he said, folding his hands, "Mademoiselle Dawn is charged with contempt and resisting arrest."

"Are you quite sure?" Raoul asked, showing the francs to him.

The man shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Monsieur, but rules are rules."

Suddenly, the man slumped in his chair. The outline of a white half-mask stood out in the dark.

"Monsieur Opera Ghost," Raoul commented, "good timing. As usual."

Erik acknowledged him with a nod and removed the man's keys from his belt. Raoul had to suppress a shudder as he walked down the row of cells behind Erik. Christine and Madame Giry stayed as lookouts.

Dawn looked up at Erik in disbelief as the lock clicked. He helped her up and led her out.

"The prisoner's escaping!" someone yelled. Raoul, Madame Giry, Christine, and Dawn and Erik split up. Raoul, Madame Giry, and Christine hopped into their carriage and left and Dawn and Erik ran side by side down the back alley. She followed him blindly, clutching tightly to his hand and trying not to drop Squishie. Her lungs began to burn. Erik jerked the grate open in the back of the opera house and shoved Dawn inside. He dropped in and closed the door seconds before the police went past.

"I am in such deep trouble," Dawn mumbled as they got into the boat, "if they catch me, they'll lock me up and throw away the key."

Squishie sat patiently in her lap as Erik rowed down the canal.

"They will do no such thing," Erik said firmly, "I won't let them."

Tears glistened in her dark eyes.

"That's really sweet of you," Dawn choked out, "but I'm beginning to think that I'm more trouble than I'm worth. Things have been chaos since I got here."

Erik turned to look at her.

"I am the master of chaos," he reminded her, "why do you think I let you stay here?"

That made her laugh.

"Things were that boring, huh?" Dawn asked.

"They were."

A flush graced her cheeks. Erik could tell by the way her gaze dropped to Squishie's head and the way her head tilted. She was flattered. He breathed a small sigh of relief. He couldn't stomach the idea of Dawn crying.

They reached the lair and Erik took Squishie before he helped Dawn out of the boat.

"Stupid officers," she griped, noticing a dark stain on her dress, "they messed it up. I hope the maids can get whatever this is out."

"I'll get your nightclothes," he offered. She turned and he unlaced the back of the dress for her before going up the steps.

Dawn stripped off the corset and all of the other layers she had on until she was completely naked.

"I feel disgusting," she told Squishie, "I need a bath."

She stepped into the water and rinsed away the stench of the prison cell. The water was cold, but she didn't care. She dipped her head back into it, although shivering, and scrubbed her hair. It had come loose from its pins and was now floating around her. She took a breath in and floated on her back. Squishie jumped in the water after her and she scrubbed Squishie's fur clean before setting her back up on the stone floor.

Erik returned, but he assumed Dawn was concealed where the curtain hung. He was very surprised to see Dawn in the water. She didn't realize he was back and rolled back onto the stone, dripping wet. While she was wringing her hair out, Erik saw everything.

He'd seen naked women before, but they'd never caused his blood to heat the way she did. Her skin shone wet in the candlelight and her pale curves stood out against the dark water. He realized what he was doing and very, very quietly walked back into the kitchen to make her a hot cup of tea. He left a towel by the water's edge for her.

When Dawn finally found him, she was still shivering slightly and her skin was rosy. He gave her the cup and she held it for a moment to warm her hands before drinking it.

"I just wish I knew what to do about Elizabeth," Dawn said sadly, "they took her away without a moment's notice. I didn't even get to say goodbye. I bonded with her. I loved her when no one else did."

Erik didn't know what to say to make her feel better. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her.

"At least we have each other," she mumbled.

He could tell she was tired and steered her towards the bed. He could still feel her shivering and lay down next to her. Gradually, she warmed up, burying her face against his shoulder.

Erik didn't sleep much. He never did, but the thoughts tumbled around in his brain. How would he get Elizabeth back for Dawn? He wasn't exactly ready to be a father, but he didn't like the idea of Elizabeth being with the very parents that condemned her to die.

Dawn stirred in his arms. He knew if he flat-out took Elizabeth, Dawn would get in trouble for it. They'd have a hard enough time getting her out of trouble right now. He'd have to find another way.

He ran his hand down the curve of her back. Dawn moved closer to him. They were pressed flat against each other. He wondered if she was still asleep because he was wide awake right now. His heart was pounding so hard that he was sure she felt it.

Dawn kissed him and Erik's body tensed, stiff as a board. So, she was awake...

It took every ounce of self-control he had not to do what instinct was crying out for him to do, but Dawn was making it tougher by the second. Her kiss went deeper, more heated and one hand ran down his back. The other lifted his mask off. He started to stop her, but she leaned in towards his ear.

"I've seen you without it, remember?"

Her breath sent tingles down his spine. He let go of her hand and she put it on the table beside the bed.

It wasn't proper. It wasn't planned. It wasn't carefully thought out the way most of his actions were, but it was something words couldn't even describe. Erik's breath was hot and ragged against Dawn's face. Judging by her touch, she was clearly more experienced than he was. He didn't bother telling her that this was his first time because she seemed to already know. Every new sensation sent his soul spiraling down an unknown tunnel to which there seemed no end to. Her touch sent bolts of lightning and towering flames through him until he was sure his skin would break apart and his spirit would go everywhere at once.

Then, there was what he could only describe as an internal explosion. His breath caught in his lungs and he was sure his heart completely stopped for a moment. In fact, it felt as though the entire world stopped spinning. His eyes closed and he saw stars.

Then, it was over. Gradually, his senses came back to him. He and Dawn lay entwined beneath the bright red covers on the bed. Clothes had been discarded on both sides and they were only in bare skin. His breath came and went raggedly like waves from a stormy ocean. His heart was beating fast and light and his head was spinning. His body felt as though it were made of jelly.

So...this was why men behaved so stupidly sometimes. It was, by far, the most intense thing he had ever felt. It was stronger than any anger he'd ever felt. Christine had never induced feelings like this.

Dawn looked up at him. Her dark eyes were glazed-looking and her golden curls spread over the pillow in every direction. He could feel her own heart pounding.

Her hand reached up to cup the side of his face that was deformed. A smile spread over her face. It was then that he knew she'd done it on purpose.

Now, Erik was exhausted. Taking her back into his arms again, they both fell into a deep sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Now that my terrible bout of writer's block is over, I am overflowing with ideas

A/N: Now that my terrible bout of writer's block is over, I am overflowing with ideas! YAY! It's also the summer term, so I have a little more time to continue Dawn and Erik's story. It was storming today, so I wasn't in the best mood, but it helped me to figure out what to do with this chapter.

Erik: (broods silently)

Me: Seems I'm not the only one that dislikes the weather down here. Yo, Erik! Aren't you ever going to move from that spot?

Erik: (growls)

Me: (dodges Punjab lasso being thrown) Okay, okay! Just a question. (rolls eyes) Muses. Anyway, back to the story.

Chapter 16

Raoul had to do a great deal of bribing to get Dawn out of trouble and she was eternally grateful to him. Erik showed his gratitude by ceasing to heckle him, although he took the extra pains to aggravate Andre and Firmin.

Since having been in a jail cell, Dawn developed a rather bad cough. Everyone was worried about her, so they insisted that Dawn spend Christmas with Raoul and Christine.

"I wish everyone wasn't so insistent," Dawn sighed as she packed her suitcase, "I hate leaving you here."

"It's for your own good," Erik reminded her, giving Squishie a good scratch behind her ears. For festivities, Dawn had tied a red ribbon bow to her collar and she looked very sweet with it on.

"I know," Dawn mumbled, "I feel like I'm a kid again."

She sat on the suitcase, then zipped it up.

"You'll come see me, won't you?" she asked him.

"I will do what I can," he said, moving to embrace her. She gazed into his eyes, which were a calm bluish green today. There was a slight grayish tint, indicating that he would be sad to see her go.

"I can't wait," she whispered. They managed to get in one last really good kiss before she heard the "special knock" indicating Madame Giry.

"Come in," she called.

Madame was flanked by Raoul and Christine.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

She gave Erik one last longing look.

"Are you quite sure you wouldn't like to stay with us for the holidays?" Raoul pressed. Despite having an initial hatred for Erik, Dawn's persistence had caused them to be on more friendlier terms.

"No, thank you. My place is here."

Secretly, Erik would have liked to have gone, but he wasn't quite ready to accept the Vicomte's charity yet.

"We'll take good care of her," Christine assured him. He couldn't help but let his gaze drop to her rapidly expanding belly.

They left. Squishie and her puppies were put into the carriage first, then Dawn was helped in, then Christine, then Raoul swung in. The door was closed. Erik watched them go from the window, sighing. He began to wonder if he should have shelved his pride.

He had to figure out what to do about Dawn's Christmas gift. He hadn't yet decided. Clothes didn't seem special enough. Jewelry seemed too ordinary. He wanted to give her something she could keep, so flowers were definitely out. Books? He wasn't sure. A thousand different ideas ran through his head, but none of them seemed good enough.

He realized that getting Elizabeth would be the only gift that was really fit for Dawn. He also began to wonder how he would go about it.

Dawn flopped over on the large, luxurious bed. She spread out all over it, Squishie jumping on her back and wagging her tail.

"Squishie says this is perfect," she informed Raoul and Christine.

"Wonderful. Dinner will be ready in a short while," Raoul said, "we'll just leave you to get unpacked."

Dawn shook her clothes out and hung them in the wardrobe. She took a moment just to stretch out on the bed, hugging Squishie and her puppies.

"I love you guys," she laughed, "but I sure will miss Erik this week."

The feeling was mutual.

Erik stayed in Dawn's empty room for a while. Her scent still lingered on the pillow she'd slept on this morning. He still remembered the songs that she'd sang as she haphazardly danced around the room, acting silly because she didn't think anyone was watching.

He didn't want to admit it, but Dawn had helped to breathe some life back into this place. She'd stirred things up more than he ever could have with her crazy antics and unpredictable personality. He'd merely given the opera house it's dark nature and air of mystery. Dawn was becoming the mask, just as Christine had.

But somewhere, there was a difference. Christine as a mask had been white, pure, untainted. Dawn as the mask made it seem rainbow, a dizzying array of shades because she'd seen the world and its various states, but she was not a dark soul like him.

Dawn was something he'd definitely not counted on. He wanted to laugh; why had he bothered making so many plans? They'd all failed. He realized then that the best things that worked out for him did not involve his plans. Sure, he could run the opera house that way, but all the friends he'd acquired were not planned.

He wondered what Dawn was doing right now. Seven whole days and nights were much too long for him. He sighed discontentedly and stared out the window. A thick snow was already beginning to fall and the room was cold because the fire had been put out.

His mind went to Elizabeth. Where was she? How was she? Did he really think bringing her back here was a good idea?

Of course he did. Dawn may not have given birth to her, but Elizabeth was definitely hers. He'd seen the softness in her eyes as she held the baby that no one wanted.

Hell, he hated to admit it, especially to himself, but he wanted Elizabeth back, too. Then, he shook his head. Where had THAT thought come from?!

For the first time in a long time, the Phantom laughed. He realized that he'd not only fallen in love with Dawn, he'd gotten himself attached to everything that was associated with Dawn. That included Squishie, her puppies, her noisy guitar, and her strange music.

Tonight, if he could make it, he was going to pay her a visit.

Dawn emerged from the bathroom, steam billowing out from behind her. Her cough was lightening considerably and she figured it was just a cold. She was dressed in her favorite ragged pajamas and fluffy pink robe when she came out and her skin was still rosy from her bath. Squishie and her puppies were chasing each other around and under the bed. An empty saucer by the door indicated that someone had fed them while she'd been in there.

"Ska-wishie!" Dawn squealed playfully when the dog noticed her and started wagging her tail. She scooped her up and kissed her on the forehead.

"Hugs the rat-dog!" she cooed, ruffling Squishie's hair. The dog barked at her in response. The iPod was playing cheerfully in the background.

_Take time to realize_

_that your warmth is crashing down on in._

_Take time to realize_

_That I am on your side,_

_Didn't I, didn't I tell you?_

Squishie suddenly bounced off the bed, followed by her children. They all ran to the door, tails wagging. Dawn grinned when the door opened.

"How did you get in here? It's really late," she commented.

Erik very quietly closed the door behind him.

"I have my ways," he reminded her.

_Take time to realize_

_that I am on your side,_

_didn't I, didn't I tell you?_

"I'm glad."

She slid into his embrace. His clothes were still chilled from being outside. She glanced over his shoulder out the window.

"Good grief, there's a blizzard going on out there! I hope you didn't go to too much trouble. I wouldn't want you getting sick again."

Memories flashed through his head of when he'd come down with that really bad fever and Dawn had cared for him then. He found it hard to believe that they'd met nearly a year ago. One year with her seemed painfully short as opposed to all the agonizing, long, drawn-out years by himself.

"We're going to have to make a decision sooner or later," Dawn said, watching her ring glint in the dim light, "the rate we're going, we're going to be old by the time we get married."

Erik mumbled in agreement.

"We won't have to have a lot of people there, just the ones you want," Dawn said, knowing he hated crowds with a passion.

He could tell that she wanted to stop keeping secrets, but that she was also doing it for him. He kissed her out of pure gratitude and appreciation.

He stayed until she fell asleep, then he pulled the covers over her. Squishie watched him leave. She was whining a little, almost as though she were trying to tell him something.

That was when he nearly ran into Christine. Both of them jumped, visibly surprised. Erik internally cursed himself for not being careful enough.

"What are you doing here?" both of them hissed in unison.

Erik went first.

"I cane to see Dawn."

"So did I."

His eyes were drawn to her swollen belly. It was going to be a big baby.

"I saw the light in her room and was hoping that she was still awake," Christine explained, forgetting her nervousness for the time being.

"She's just fallen asleep."

Christine led him down the stairs so that they wouldn't wake Dawn up.

"How did you get in?" Christine asked, not sounding the least bit angry.

"I picked the lock," he answered.

She was staring at the floor and she had the expression indicating that she was seriously thinking about something. Her hand was rubbing the side of her stomach.

"Is something troubling you?"

He knew that look very well. It was the same look she got when she was very nervous.

"It's my first child. What if I do something wrong?"

Erik had, at times, questioned her abilities as a mother, but he didn't dare tell her that now.

"I am sure you'll do fine," he said, trying to keep the steely edge out of his voice. It worked.

"When it's just the two of us, Raoul and I, it seems like a fairy tale," she told him, "we spend most of our time together. But now that there's going to be a baby, well, I'm not sure. I get frightened sometimes that he might not love me as much as he loves this child."

Surprisingly, Erik had an answer for that one. He found himself pondering what Dawn would say.

"If anything, he should love you more for it."

Erik was quite stunned when Christine lunged forward and hugged him. His whole body went rigid from the shock.

"Oh, Erik! Sometimes I can't help but wonder if things could have been different! It crosses my mind almost every day! I couldn't see it before, but now that I see it through Dawn's eyes, you look quite different!"

He hoped that the tears that she was now sobbing onto his shoulder were a result of hormones. Before he could pry her loose, he got a bigger surprise: she kissed him.

There was a barely audible creak on the stairs. Erik yanked himself out of Christine's embrace to see Dawn.

Even though there was almost no light, he could sense the rapid progression of Dawn's emotions. First, there was shock. Then, there was cold fury and sadness mixed. Her steps seemed oddly loud on the stairs.

"All right, what the Hell's going on down here? I want answers. Now!" Dawn demanded. She looked from a surprised Erik to a still bawling Christine.

No one could answer for a moment. She tapped her foot impatiently.

"I'm waiting."

Christine tried to say something, but it ended up in a jumble of tears. Erik was trying to force himself to speak, but he couldn't. Dawn stepped forward and removed Christine's hands from her face.

"Talk," she demanded.

"Don't be angry with him," she begged, "it was my fault. I kissed him."

"Why?" Dawn had hold of both of Christine's wrists so that she couldn't run away.

"Because-" she trailed off as more tears came. Dawn looked over at Erik, who was trying not to squirm.

"Would you please wait for me upstairs?" she asked, struggling to remain calm. Seeing her temper building, he did as she asked.

"Now, talk, damn it!" Dawn snarled.

"I'm frightened! This is my first child and I haven't been feeling well all day! I'm sick most of the time and I'm frightened!"

Some of the heat left Dawn's cheeks. More calmly, she loosened her grip on Christine, who was now turning to jelly. She sank down onto one of the steps, shaking violently.

"What are you so afraid of?" Dawn asked, clearly calmer.

"That I'll do something wrong, that I'll hurt my child, that Raoul won't love me after the baby's born."

The air exited out of Dawn's lungs in a loud WHOOSH.

"What makes you think he won't?" Dawn asked.

"Isn't that what always happens?" Christine blew her nose into lace handkerchief.

"Of course not. If he was going to leave you, he'd have done it a long time ago," Dawn reminded her, "being a mother probably is scary, but you'll get it. The only way to learn is to do it."

Christine's tears were starting to dry.

"But," Dawn said, her voice darkening, "you better keep your paws off of Erik. I'm not a jealous woman, but I don't take kindly to other women trying to take him away from me. Those lips are mine and I worked hard for them. So help me, I will defend him to the death. Don't take it personally, but that's the way it is. Understand?"

Shakily, she nodded.

"Good. Because I don't think I'll be responsible for my actions if it happens again. He's been hurt a lot and I'm not about to let it happen again."

They parted ways down the hall.

When Dawn entered the room, Erik was pacing nervously, arms crossed over his chest.

"Chill out," Dawn told him, "you're not in trouble."

He breathed a sigh of relief as she slid into his arms again.

"You're angry with Christine," he commented, still seeing irritation in Dawn's eyes.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because everytime I think we've got an understanding, she pulls some stunt like that. I'm getting sick of it because it's harder for me not to get mad when it happens. She knows we're together and we know that she and Raoul aren't going to part ways anytime soon. The only reason I knew not to jump on you is because I saw you go tense when she did it."

"Please don't be angry with her," Erik sighed, "she's so young."

"She's going to have to grow up," Dawn said firmly, "she can't keep pulling the helpless act forever."

Erik would have argued with her if she'd been any other person, but he knew he'd met his match with Dawn. He was starting to get a little annoyed until Dawn's arms tightened affectionately around him. Her head rested against his shoulder and the warmth of her face penetrated his coat.

He couldn't be annoyed with her. She only got upset because she cared about him. He'd never known anyone to have such a possessiveness toward him. She wasn't unreasonably jealous, but that streak was still within her.

His mind went back to Elizabeth. As he tucked Dawn in a second time, he vowed he would go and find her if he had to search every house here.

Squishie kissed Dawn on the forehead.

"Oh," Dawn groaned as her stomach suddenly seemed to turn inside out. She barely made it to the bathroom before she got sick.

Someone knocked on the door. Christine emerged and recoiled from the sounds.

"Dawn?"

Dawn raised her head, looking positively green in the face.

"What?" she groaned.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted breakfast, but I suppose I already know the answer."

Dawn laughed weakly and staggered to the sink to rinse her mouth out.

"The doctor's coming to do a checkup today," she continued, "would you like him to see you?"

"Couldn't hurt."

She stepped behind the changing screen and got dressed. She was surprised when her jeans wouldn't zip all the way.

"What the Hell?"

A grin spread over Christine's face.

"These things fit a month ago! What the Hell?" she repeated, tossing them aside. In fact, none of her jeans fit.

"I think you already know."

Christine could not suppress the smugness from her voice. What little color Dawn had in her face paled.

"But-"

It was a nice change to see that Dawn wasn't always articulate. Christine dissolved into giggles as she pointed at the almost imperceptible lump.

"But-" Dawn stuttered again. It hadn't been enough time! If she really was pregnant, it had only been a couple of weeks!

Sighing, she pulled a dress over her head. Christine was still chuckling.

"Will you cut that out?" Dawn demanded, "We don't know for sure if that's really it!"

"I'm afraid so," the doctor said, probing Dawn's belly later on that afternoon, "I've delivered enough babies to know before I even run any tests."

Dawn flushed dark red.

"Oh, no," she mumbled, "now what am I going to do?"

"I suggest that you eat enough, get enough rest, and avoid as much stress as possible," the doctor told her before he went to go check on Christine. Dawn waited until the doctor was out of sight before ranting to herself. How would she tell Erik? Where would they live? The basement of an opera house was hardly a good place to raise a family. She knew that she needed to talk it over with him as soon as she possibly could. Part of her was afraid, but part of her was excited.

Christmas passed silently. Dawn wondered why Erik hadn't come to visit her. In fact, no one, including Madame Giry, had seen him since the day she'd left. She hoped nothing bad had happened to him. Each day that passed made her more excited and more nervous at the same time. Finally, it was New Year's Night, time for the Masquerade (again). These people would use any excuse for a party.

Dawn unpacked her suitcase. This year's costume was a deep cherry red trimmed with black. The edges of her mask swept back from her face, taking emphasis away from her pointy chin. She wore a dress that was mainly the cherry red with lacy black roses. The bottom of the dress even resembled rose petals. Her Christmas present from Christine and Raoul were a matching choker-style necklace heavily laden with rubies and heart-shaped earrings. The necklace, she decided, she would only wear on special occasions. The earrings were simple enough to wear every other day. Her shoes matched. By now, three of the ballet girls had adopted Squishie's puppies, so it would just be the two of them tonight. Dawn fastened a ribbon matching her dress around her collar and neatly brushed her hair.

"All right, kid, it's just you and me tonight," Dawn told her. She wagged politely, but she could tell that Squishie missed Erik as much as she did. Just to make sure, Dawn unlatched the mirror and slid it back. There was no Erik, just an empty, dark tunnel.

"If he doesn't show up tonight, I'm going to go check on him," Dawn said, shutting the mirror, "it's not like him to just disappear that way."

Dawn squirmed with anxiety.

"You know what? Let's just go take a quick peek down there and if he's not there, we'll just..." she trailed off and just started walking. Squishie, ever the loyal companion, loyally followed. Dawn had to hold her skirts up to keep them from coming in contact with the murky puddles in the stone tunnel. She held the candle high above her and looked all around as she went.

At last, she emerged into the cavern on the stairway. A breeze blew her candle out and she cursed, fumbling around for the book of matches she'd stuffed into her bodice. The match sputtered to life and she relit the candle.

Other than that, the Phantom's lair was silent. Too silent. She walked around, trying to find any evidence at all that he'd been here recently. The boat was untouched. The organ's lid was closed and it had a slight coating of dust. The bed was neatly made and showed no signs of being slept in.

"Crap," Dawn muttered, disappointed. Then, something else caught her eye. She bent over the table to examine it.

It was a very lifelike sketch of Dawn. In fact, there was a small stack of them at various moments since she'd been here. He'd sketched her while she'd been sleeping a few times with Squishie curled up beside her. He'd sketched her once when she'd learned some kind of spin and her hair was flaring out like a halo. He'd sketched them dancing together at the mask. He'd sketched her expression when she said she loved him. And he'd sketched her when she'd been singing. The last one was a sketch of her hand with the ring on it.

A warmth filled Dawn's stomach like the candle she held in her hand. It was the sweetest thing she'd ever seen.

She felt her face flush considerably as she ascended the stairs. She reminded herself to say something to Erik later.

Upstairs, the party was in full swing. She lost track of the amount of people she danced with, but she made sure her engagement ring stayed in plain sight. Jacques was one of the guys she danced with.

She saw something in his eyes tonight that sent her intuition on alert, but she shoved those thoughts away. He was her friend, right? He wouldn't do anything...

"Dawn, you look beautiful tonight," he whispered. She cringed when she smelled alcohol on his breath.

"Been hitting the wine a little hard, haven't you?" she asked.

"I feel fine," he purred, "especially now that you're here."

Dawn's eyebrows raised beneath the mask.

"Uh, Jacques, I'm pretty sure you're drunk. You'd better let me go now."

Squishie growled menacingly, but Jacques didn't notice.

"Where's your precious Erik? It isn't becoming of a gentleman to leave a lady alone at a party."

"He's around here somewhere, I'm sure of it. Jacques, please let me go."

People were beginning to stare at them as Dawn started straining against his grip, which was getting more vice-like.

"You'd be happy with me, Dawn."

He pressed his lips to hers. Dawn was struggling with all her might to get loose, but Jacques seemed to be turned on by it.

There was suddenly an ominous air to the room. The music suddenly stopped. Squishie bit Jacques hard on the leg, forcing him to release Dawn. She was gasping from lack of oxygen, but her face was reddening with embarrassment and anger.

"How many times have I told you-" she snarled before she realized who was standing behind him. Dawn trailed off, seeing Erik.

The crowds edged away, suddenly frightened by his ominous presence. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes were blazing amber. Heat and rage radiated from him like a towering inferno.

"Erik! You're back!" Dawn ran to embrace him, but he pulled away. She looked at him, puzzled. Without a word, he grabbed her hand and yanked his ring off of her finger, causing her to cringe. Squishie cowered behind her, just as frightened as she was.

"Pity," Erik spat, "I expected better of you."

Dawn opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a mere look. Her stomach filled with acid. She knew not to mess with him when he got like this.

Erik turned to Jacques, who backed away from him, obviously frightened.

"Get out of my opera house right now and do not return!" he snapped. Jacques fled.

Dawn had paled and was now shaking very hard. Erik did not know the truth. When angry, he would not hear anyone else's words or logic. She had to struggle against her legs, which felt as though they'd turned to jelly.

"Leave," he hissed.

Swallowing a lump of unshed tears, she turned to walk up the stairs. When she turned to look back, Erik had already disappeared and everyone was whispering. The night was shot.

Dawn managed to hold herself together until she got to her room. Then, she collapsed in the floor, tears pouring down her face. Squishie tried her best to comfort her, but Dawn was inconsolable. Someone knocked on the door. Dawn didn't answer and she heard it open.

"Tell me what happened," Madame Giry's calm voice said, penetrating her hysterical sobs.

"Jacques was drunk and he kissed me. Erik saw it and he thinks I've cheated on him. He took his ring back and told me I have to leave," Dawn wailed.

Madame Giry's arm went around Dawn's shoulders, trying to calm her.

"He doesn't understand! I'm going to have his child!" Dawn choked out.

Madame Giry stared at the mirror, but there was no outline of mask to be seen. She wished Erik's temper weren't so volatile.

"I love him, but he doesn't trust me!" Dawn lamented.

Another knock. This time, Christine came in.

"I saw what happened and I'm very sorry," she told her, "you're more than welcome to stay with Raoul and I."

"Thanks," Dawn sputtered, "I'll take you up on it."

Meg came in next.

"Does the whole freaking world know?!" Dawn asked irritably, trying to recompose herself.

"Afraid so," Meg admitted, "most of the city saw it. They won't forget this for a while."

Dawn's stomach gave a heave and she ran to the bathroom. When she returned, she saw that the three women had already packed up her suitcases.

"Thanks," she mumbled gratefully, "my baby's not cooperating tonight."

She hastily scribbled a note to Erik and left it sitting on the bed, hoping he'd calm down and regain some sense of reason when he read it. Then, they put her things into the carriage and took off. The party was over and Andre and Firmin were just getting into their carriage. They were both white as sheets and shaking. Evidently, Dawn wasn't the only one that the Phantom had terrified tonight.

"I can't believe this," Dawn complained, hugging Squishie tightly and burying her face in Squishie's fuzzy coat, "I really believed we were going to make it. I thought he loved me enough to trust me. Now, I'm out of a job and I'm pregnant with his kid and I have no earthly idea of what I'm going to do next."

She didn't hear Christine and Raoul saying they were going to take care of her. She didn't hear anything but her own breaking heart.

Erik sat on the roof, face buried his hands. The ring he'd just snatched off of Dawn's hand was still warm from her skin. He pressed it against his cheek, feeling the sting of the stone making a dent in it. He'd trusted her with everything. He'd trusted her with everything he was and she'd betrayed him. He couldn't believe it.

Did the year they'd spent together mean nothing to her? He'd given her more than he'd given Christine because she'd seemed willing to invest more. He'd sworn he wouldn't get personally involved, and yet here he was. The only difference was that the opera house was still in one piece.

No, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of his rage the way he had Christine. Enough was enough.

"Erik," a voice said behind him. He flinched slightly before realizing it was only Madame Giry.

"I wish to be alone."

His voice didn't carry the firmness that he wanted it to.

"It would seem so," Madame Giry said, leaning up against the wall, "since you didn't even give her the chance to explain."

"What was there to explain? She kissed another man!" Erik snapped.

"Perhaps there was more to it. You above everyone should know that appearances are deceiving," she said calmly.

He looked up at her, giving her his famous stare, but she was used to it. Instead of drawing back, she retrieved the note from her coat pocket that Dawn had left on her bed.

"She left this message for you."

Erik started to take it from her, but she pulled it back from him.

"I want you to make sure you hear what she has to say," Madame said calmly, reading his intentions to destroy the note. Erik let his hand drop and crossed his arms.

"Dear Erik, the past year that I have known you has been the best of my life. I regret that I did not get a chance to explain this situation to you in person. I will make this short, sweet, and to the point: Jacques was drunk and he kissed me. I was fighting him-- ask anybody that was close enough. Raoul, Christine, Madame Giry, and Meg all saw it. If you would have looked down, you would have even seen Squishie biting him. Squishie does not react well to someone making me do anything. Furthermore, I wish your temper had not wrecked this evening because I had something very important to tell you, something that I wanted to say in person. I will not be returning to the opera house after this incident because you have made it clear that you cannot trust me. I cannot put my best efforts into something when I am so sad. I will be living with Raoul and Christine for a while, then I will be moving elsewhere when I can find another job. You will not have to worry about seeing me again. I wish you the best of luck and I hope that you can find someone who is prettier, a better singer, a better dancer, and more patient than I am. Just know that I will never love anyone as much as I have loved you. All my loving, Dawn."

All the belligerence drained out of Erik, leaving him almost as pale as his mask. The amber fire had gone from his eyes, replacing it with a dark gray-blue sea of heartbreak. That was it--he had lost her for good. He would never be able to win back Dawn's love after such an outburst. Not only had he become angry and scared her, he'd embarrassed her in front of half of Paris. She deserved better than someone like him.

"It is not too late, you know," Madame reminded him, "you can get Dawn back."

"I can't," Erik objected, "I've hurt her too much."

"You would be surprised," Madame told him, "as many times as you exploded at us, we did not leave."

Erik felt his face flush. He had been rather abusive to the opera cast and workers over the years. He sighed, feeling his insides crumble.

"Erik, do you truly love Mademoiselle Dawn?"

"Yes," he choked out, feeling a lump of unshed tears in his throat.

"Then you must show her. You must prove to her that you have learned your lesson. Dawn has been very forgiving, has she not?"

He sighed. The more Madame Giry compared him to Dawn, the worse he felt.

"I would do anything for Dawn," he mumbled, taking the note and carefully folding it.

"You must prove it to her, then," Madame said, lifting his chin so that she could see his face.

A few moments of silence passed.

"Where were you? Dawn has been trying to find you since she returned," Madame then asked.

"I was searching for Elizabeth," Erik admitted, "I did manage to find her, but persuading the parents to give her up is a task I have not yet figured out how to do. They are disgusting people; the woman strikes her everytime she cries."

"If there is proof that she does not want the child, that may be enough," Madame reminded him, "then, Dawn could adopt her legally and avoid any trouble with the law."

"They won't give a child to an unmarried woman," Erik grumbled.

"Then, perhaps you should decide upon a plan to make her trust you again," Madame said.

The clock chimed midnight, but it's large bells sounded like death tolls to him. Once upon a time, death had seemed a legitimate enough idea. But not now. As Madame Giry returned to her worried daughter, Erik stood alone on the roof as the snow billowed around him, swirling his cape and his hair. He had a job to do and he knew it.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: TWO updates in one night

A/N: TWO updates in one night! Holy cow! Never thought I was capable of that one! I suppose that's what happens when you drink coffee late in the day and have Fridays off. I can't wait to get this thing posted! And HUGS to Angelic Reader! I don't think that one's missed a single chapter so far!

Erik: (looks amused) For once, I cannot complain. (sips out of a cup labeled "Starbucks")

Me: That's because you like to stay up all night anyway. Cheers! (touches cups with Erik) All righty, then! Here it goes:

Chapter 17

"Has she not come out at all?" Raoul asked as Christine approached the door.

"I'm afraid not," Christine sighed, "she claims to not be feeling well. She still lets Squishie out for a walk and takes care of her, but that's it."

They knocked on the door.

"Come in," Dawn croaked, her voice sounding dry and strained. Squishie didn't even try to bite Raoul this time. In fact, she asked him to pet her, which he did.

"Dawn, we're both very concerned about you," Raoul said, coming to a stop at the foot of the bed, "you've been here for nearly three weeks. You didn't even celebrate your birthday."

"What's to celebrate? I'm another year older and another year sh out of luck," Dawn rasped, burying her face in the pillow.

Christine sat down on the bed beside her.

"Dawn, I know it's difficult, but staying up here all day isn't good for you. You need sunlight, good food, and fresh air so that your baby will be healthy."

Dawn sighed.

"I guess. I'm done barfing my organs up for the day anyway," she sighed, "but I'm gonna take a bath first."

"Why don't we go shopping? You'll need new clothes that will have room in the front," Christine suggested, "and we can get a few things for Squishie as well."

"All right," Dawn sighed. She wasn't in the mood, but Christine did have a point.

"Well, I'll just be downstairs," Raoul said, taking his hint to leave.

"Call me when you get out and I'll help you with your hair," Christine suggested. Dawn gave a nod and went into the bathroom.

"I'm worried about her," she whispered to Squishie, "I do hope this works."

"Whuff," Squishie responded.

"In the meantime, would you like to go for a walk with me?" Christine asked. Squishie bounded to the door, tail wagging.

Dawn's iPod was playing merrily on the bathroom counter. She thanked God that she'd figured out how to charge the thing since she'd gotten here. It hadn't been easy, but she was thrilled. At least her iPod, guitar, and Squishie would be constants in her life no matter where she went. Now that her bout of morning sickness was over, she was actually getting kind of hungry.

By the time Christine got her dressed up, fixed her hair, and did her makeup, Dawn didn't recognize herself in the mirror. In fact, she could blend right in with everybody else. They went out to the carriage where Raoul was waiting and they even let Squishie come. It was nice to be out.

She felt a pang when they passed by the opera house, but she averted her eyes and pretended not to notice. Christine and Raoul noticed, but they chose not to say anything. Dawn's hand rested on her belly, which had only swollen slightly. It was barely noticeable to anyone right now because she was wide-hipped.

Erik happened to be in Dawn's room. Her scent still clung to the sheets and little reminders here and there showed that she'd left in a hurry. One of his roses was still sitting in a glass of water by the window, its petals beginning to wilt. A single strand of golden hair clung to it. Her handprint was still on the mirror where she'd gone down there to find him the night of the party. A sketch that she'd drawn was poking out from under the bed. He'd found it to be a very cartoonish drawing of them kissing. He'd carefully folded it up and tucked it into his pocket.

He looked out the window and his aimless gaze landed on the familiar carriage. Since the weather was fair and sunny and it was a warm day for January, the top had been put down. He recognized Raoul and Christine, and he definitely recognized Squishie, but who was that blonde girl with them? Suddenly, realization hit him.

It was Dawn.

She definitely did not look happy. Her cheeks were pale and hollow and she looked like she'd been ill recently. Christine had dressed her up and almost been successful in disguising her. He wanted to lean out the window and shout to her, but all he could do was stare.

Dawn sensed his gaze, but she didn't dare look up. No, now was not the time for regrets. She had other things to take care of, and other beings.

They started by having lunch before going into the numerous shops. Raoul was the knight in shining armor by carrying the tons of bags and boxes they accumulated during this spree. Christine was chattering excitedly while they picked out various things such as clothes, a crib, and other "baby" things. Dawn was taking a lackluster interest in everything and just wishing that the baby had already been born so that she could busy herself with its care. She wondered how Elizabeth was doing. And, inevitably, her thoughts drifted back to Erik--him slipping through the mirror at night to talk to her, sometimes sing for her. On a few occasions, he'd even brought his violin with him. She'd been surprised to learn that he played violin. There were times when he'd come to sit by her on the couch with the fire blazing during the winter months. On nights that neither of them could sleep because it was hot, they'd both go up on the roof to get some air. There were times when he and Dawn would sneak down to the kitchen and Dawn would make cookies. At first, he'd found Dawn's midnight snacking habits an odd trait, but then he'd started coming with her to make sure that none of the drunken stage hands overstepped the line. He'd shake his head when she'd make everything from cookies to pasta to scrambled eggs. She smiled, remembering the last time they'd done it. Then, she remembered the time they both went swimming in the underground lake. She'd stripped down to her underwear with no modesty whatsoever and jumped in. He'd looked at her like she was crazy, but she'd beckoned him in. Eventually, she got him to strip down to his underpants, too, and he'd actually taken his mask off. The cold water felt good on her sweat-dampened skin and they'd both stayed in so long that they were wrinkled when they came out.

She barely heard Christine asking her if she liked this thing better or that one. There was no room in her mind because he took all of the space up.

They didn't arrive home until late in the evening when the sun was dipping low in the sky. After dinner, they took all the packages up to Dawn's room. She thanked them politely and said good night.

Then, she noticed something that she hadn't seen at first. There was a red rose on her pillow with a black ribbon tied around the stem.

"Erik," she sighed, picking it up, "oh, Erik."

She lay on her bed and closed her eyes, unaware that his were watching her.

She was woken several hours earlier than she would have liked when Raoul was frantically banging on the door.

"WHAT?!" she snapped.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Dawn, but Andre and Firmin are here to see you," Raoul called.

Dawn groaned.

"Shall I tell them you'll be down in a moment?"

"Yeah, I suppose," she grunted, wanting to roll back over into sweet darkness. Instead, she got up and got dressed.

Both men were waiting downstairs, pacing nervously. When they saw her, they both started talking at once.

"One at a time, please," Dawn demanded. Squishie barked to help assist her point.

"You must come back! If you don't, the Opera Ghost will kill us all! We've been at the wrong end of his temper since you left! Rehearsals aren't getting accomplished, we're at our wit's end, and on top of that, we had to re-hire Carlotta to replace you!" one of them pleaded.

Dawn raised an eyebrow.

"That bad, huh?"

They both nodded grimly.

"You do realize that it was our dear Opera Ghost that chased me out in the first place, right?" Dawn asked, folding her arms over her chest.

"You've got to do something! We'll be forced to close the place down unless you come back!"

Firmin fished through his pockets and produced a wrinkled letter that had the wax skull seal on the back. He thrust it at Dawn with a trembling hand. She unfolded it and skimmed it quickly.

"All right, but I have certain conditions."

They both looked at each other and groaned.

"Will you chill out? It has nothing to do with money," Dawn told them, "you see, I'm with child right now and I'm going to need frequent breaks because my body's not real thrilled with me at the moment. I also don't want anyone screaming at me and I need food on hand most of the time."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. That's it."

"We can certainly make those arrangements. Well, we must be going. Good day to you, Mademoiselle."

Raoul handed her another letter, this one with an unbroken seal. Her name was scrawled hastily on the outside as though Erik had written it in a hurry. She accepted it and went outside to read, suddenly feeling quite claustrophobic.

_Dawn,_

_I know that there aren't enough words to make up for the way I behaved. I was a fool to think that you would ever leave me for someone else. I very much want to talk to you in person but I will understand if you don't. For what it's worth, I apologize. Even if you are angry with me, please don't stop singing. I can't stand your strong, lovely voice being substituted with Carlotta's horrible screeching and I will not stand for it. Please come back._

_O.G._

"Well, at least he's apologizing," she said to Raoul, who appeared behind her, "he's not as dense as he acts sometimes."

"Will you go?" he asked, not being able to deny the fact that he'd been reading over her shoulder.

"Yes, I will go, but not because of him. I'm going because I don't believe in innocent ears being slaughtered."

Dawn truly smiled for the first time in days. She hastily penned a letter of her own. Raoul promised to give it to Madame Giry, who would deliver it. Her letter said:

_Erik,_

_I will come back to the opera house, but I am not ready to talk to you yet. You truly scared me with the way you were acting and I'm still very upset with you. It will take a long, long time for my trust to come back. I'd still like to think that there is hope for the future, but I cannot be with a man who has a violent temper towards me. Suffice it to say that there are several reasons. I want to work this out, but my nerves have been badly shaken. I cannot be with someone that I am afraid of. It has nothing to do with your appearance, but with your behavior because of it. I need you to trust me if we're going to be together. Please understand that I need a lot of space right now. I still love you very much, but I need to know that you love me enough to trust me and not make snap judgments about everything._

_Dawn._

His heart broke right in half when he read her response, but at least he could see her again. And she'd stated very clearly that there was hope for the future. He vowed to himself that he would work on controlling his anger.

_Dawn,_

_Take as much time as you need. I will be waiting._

_Erik._

_Erik, _

_I appreciate you respecting my wishes. Thank you for not being pushy._

_Dawn._

The letters had gotten shorter and shorter until they were nonexistent. Dawn eventually returned to practice, but the light in her eyes was gone. She seemed half-alive most of the time. Erik watched her dutifully either from the rafters or from Box 5. He began to notice interesting things.

Dawn seemed to be in a foul mood most of the morning, then she'd be better during the afternoon. The new cook often commented that she ate often and had unusual cravings. But the funniest was yet to come.

Carlotta was bossing people around as usual. Dawn couldn't understand why she was still here anyway.

"Will you shut up? I can't say my lines over your ranting," Dawn snarled. Carlotta clomped forward, bulging skirts fanning out around her.

"What did you say, you little toad?"

Dawn placed her hands on her hips.

"Get off the stage before I break your jaw."

At first, everyone laughed, but they saw she was serious. Carlotta went to slap Dawn, but Dawn twisted her arm behind her back and kicked her feet out from under her.

"You touch me, I will hit you so hard that your ancestors are gonna get dizzy!" Dawn snarled. Meg and a few of the other girls pulled them apart. Carlotta left in a huff. Erik could not suppress an amused chuckle.

"Are you all right?" Meg asked her. Dawn nodded, but not convincingly. During the next few minutes, she tossed her sheet music down on the stage and ran away. Erik followed her. He was a few feet away from her when she ducked into the bathroom. Unnerving retching noises immediately followed. Maybe she'd just eaten something that hadn't agreed with her.

Dawn emerged, looking ragged, but she squared her shoulders and went back to the stage. Erik knew something deeper than a mild stomach disorder was going on, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Four months and three operas went by. Dawn's stomach continued to expand and people were beginning to pick up on her condition because she was starting to show. The worst of the hormone shifts was behind her and Dawn was beginning to look less ill and pale all the time. She didn't have the "glow" yet, but she wasn't throwing up all the time, either. Christine's belly was definitely beginning to bulge. Christine's baby was only a month ahead of Dawn's, but Christine showed more because she was much thinner than Dawn.

Erik still hadn't figured it out yet, but he knew something was definitely going on. Winter had given way to spring, but he felt frozen, cold, half-alive, like a living corpse. Still, he waited, just as he said he would.

He realized that Dawn was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He prayed, for the first time he could ever remember, that it was not too late. It didn't take long for his prayers to be answered.

Dawn said goodbye to the other girls and told Christine and Raoul that she'd be out in a minute. She removed a letter that she'd stuffed into the waistband of her ballet skirt and went to Box 5. Erik hid in the shadows behind one of the curtains. He could smell her signature perfume and the light coating of perspiration from practice, and God help him, he wanted her so bad. He wanted to take her into his arms, kiss her, and make her forget.

She placed the folded paper squarely in the middle of the chair, then nervously looked around. She sensed him, but she did not see him. Then, she left.

He waited until her footsteps were no longer audible, then he unfolded the paper. Her curvy script was there, all right.

_Erik,_

_I don't really know how to say this, so I'll just do the best I can: if you still want to be with me, come to my room tonight. The door and the window latches will both be unlocked. Raoul and Christine usually go to bed around eleven. You're going to find out some news that will probably shock you, but don't worry. I think it's good news, but I'm not sure. Please, please do not get mad no matter what happens. It's going to be hard for me to talk about it as it is. Now would be a good time to show me that your temper won't always rule you. All seriousness aside, I never stopped loving you and I still want this to work so much! I dream about you every night and I love you as much as I ever did. I just hope you feel it, too. Every couple has problems, but we can get through this together; I still believe._

_Dawn._

Erik felt tears welling up in his eyes. Yes, tonight he would definitely pay her a visit.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Just in case you were wondering, the song from the opera is borrowed from "Music and Lyrics" (movie)

A/N: Just in case you were wondering, the song from the opera is borrowed from "Music and Lyrics" (movie). This chapter was something I've been envisioning since I started this story, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I never thought I would be engulfed by the Phan-world, but it's been a pleasure to come here and know the enigma that is Erik.

Erik: (rolls eyes) Are you quite finished with your speech yet?

Me: Yes, I'm done. On with the story.

Chapter 18

Of course, Dawn didn't make it as easy as that. He had to look all over the house for her. When he finally found her, he discovered that she was not in the house, but in the gardens. He was torn between embracing her and throwing a hissy fit about making herself so hard to find. But something stopped him from losing his temper again.

She was sitting on the stone edge of a fountain. Her black nightgown covered everything, but it clung to her sensuous curves. She'd put on a little weight, but it didn't make her unattractive. Fireflies were flashing around, emitting a soft yellow-green wink of color every now and then. The moonlight highlighted the water splashing in the fountain and most of Dawn's features. She sat with her knees pulled up to her chin and arms curled around her legs. Erik felt his courage slipping. What right did he have to come back to this angel after the way he'd treated her?

He was going to walk away when she looked up at him, dark eyes demanding him to come forward and face her. His mind went blank and he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She was his light.

"It took you long enough," she said, unfolding her body and turning to face him. At first, he couldn't tell whether or not she was kidding. Then, he saw her trying to smile and breathed a sigh of relief. He knew he wasn't out of the woods yet, but her joking meant that she couldn't be too angry at him.

"I expected you to be in your room," he explained.

"I didn't want Raoul and Christine waking up," she said, a shadow in her voice that wasn't usually there. Erik felt more stabs of guilt even though the Christine incidents had not been his fault. Her arms were folded over her chest and he knew that she was hiding something. Dawn only did that when she had something big to tell and she wasn't ready. Erik had a suspicion that it had something to do with the "secret" that she had mentioned in her note.

Erik paced back and forth in front of her for a moment. He had never asked for another person's forgiveness before and did not know how to. In fact, he couldn't remember apologizing for anything. Not even to Christine, although he probably owed her one.

Dawn looked up at him, her dark eyes holding an intensity he'd never seen. She was waiting, but she was getting impatient. It had been so much easier to communicate his feelings in writing than it was now.

"I want to apologize," Erik choked out suddenly, "for..."

A glimmer of hope flickered beneath her dark gaze and this gave him courage.

"...everything," Erik managed to continue, "and for losing my temper in front of half of Paris."

"Three-quarters," Dawn corrected him sarcastically.

He felt irritation rise. She was making it difficult on purpose. He mentally shook himself, trying to be patient. She was hurt; of course she would have these biting remarks.

"I have never made a bigger mistake in my life," Erik said, the words pouring like water now, "since you've been gone, my life has been empty and meaningless. The opera house is beginning to cave under the pressure and I cannot run it by myself as I used to. The world has had a taste of your talent, Angel Dawn, and they cannot live without your voice, either. I cannot live without you."

Dawn was visibly surprised. He could see the love resurfacing, but something else was restraining her from flinging herself into his arms.

"What is it, Dawn?" he asked, feeling dizzy. Was there someone else? What reason could she possibly have?

"Well, I have to be sure that this won't happen again, and I really have to be sure that something worse won't come out of it next time," Dawn said cautiously, "if it were just me that I was trying to protect, I would be fine."

He gave her a puzzled look. Squishie, whom he had not seen before, sat beside Dawn on the edge of the fountain. She wasn't growling at Erik, but her body language implied that she was worried.

"And it's not Squishie," Dawn said, finishing his thought process.

"Then-" he started to ask.

Dawn waited a few seconds to see if he could figure it out. He didn't.

"I've been in a terrible mood lately for more than one reason," she said, trying to toss him a hint. He still didn't get it.

"I noticed that you were ill several days in a row," Erik commented, "I thought part of it was because of that."

"You're close," Dawn assured him.

Right around the time that he understood, she pulled the extra fabric over her stomach back so that the curve showed.

"I'm going to have a baby," she said.

Erik began to shake and he had to sit down.

"Before you ask, I can tell you for certain that it's yours," Dawn said, "you're the father. But I can't risk being with someone who could potentially hurt either one of us. Pregnancy by itself is very stressful and I don't want to have to worry about this being a reoccurrence. I want to come back to stay and I still want to be married to you, but you've got to control your jealousy and your temper. Otherwise, I'll be forced to leave for good."

He stared at her curved belly in shock. He wondered why he didn't notice that before. If it would have been any other woman, he would have.

"As it is, it's going to take a very long time for you to get my trust back," Dawn said, letting the nightgown skirt fall back in place, "I don't take kindly to being yelled at. My last relationship ended very badly after the guy punched me in the jaw and broke it. I'm fortunate that the police showed up when they did or I'd have been dead. He was going to kill me. That's why Squishie doesn't like men when she first meets them. Neither of us will ever forget that."

The ghost of the old pain haunted Dawn's face. Dawn had told him a lot of things, but she'd never told him that.

"We had to run. We had to move in the middle of the night to escape him," Dawn continued, "and I vowed that I would never let this happen again. I kept hoping that the monster I was with would eventually transform back into the sweet, shy guy that I first met and fell in love with. He never did. So I hope you understand why."

"I don't blame you," he said numbly.

"I don't want to put as much pressure on you as I'm about to, but you have some very serious decisions to make," Dawn told him, "you have to decide first and foremost if you really want this baby. If you don't, we're going to have to part ways. I'll let you see it whenever you want and you won't have to worry about taking care of us. I'd much rather be on my own than with someone who's not ready for a child. I don't give a crap about what society says when it comes to that."

Erik was stunned.

"If you decide that you want us both, then we're going to have to find ourselves a better place to live," Dawn said, "or at least move to a different part of the opera house. I'm pretty sure you'd agree with me that raising children around a lake, a torture chamber, and lots of tunnels that have traps in them is more than dangerous. I would hate to see what would happen to them."

She shuddered, trying to shake that thought out of her head.

Erik's insides were twisting painfully. She was giving him a choice. A very, very hard choice.

"I don't want to know tonight," Dawn told him, "tonight's much too soon. I want you to take some time to think about this. I'm not gonna be mad if you say no."

She kissed him on the cheek.

"Now that I've said my peace, I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Erik."

"Wait!"

She paused.

"How...far along is the baby?" he asked.

"About four and a half months," she answered, "it started moving last week."

She took his hand and pressed it to her curved belly. He felt a strange twitching sensation under her skin.

"It's kicking," Dawn said, a maternal smile lighting her face, "or waving. I can't tell which."

Erik had seen and heard some beautiful things in his time, but the fluttering movements under Dawn's skin utterly entranced him. Too soon, she had kissed him on the forehead and gone inside.

He turned to see that Squishie had not followed her in. She was still sitting beside Erik.

"Well, Squishie, now what?" Erik asked. She tilted her head sideways. Then, she made a whining noise. Before Erik could move, she'd jumped on his lap and started kissing him on the cheek.

"I've missed you, too," Erik said, removing the affectionate animal from his face, "I'd stay, but I have a lot of work to do."

She "arf"-ed at him and he opened the door and let her inside. Then, he took off, a very determined shadow of the night.

Two more months went by and Dawn didn't hear anything. She hadn't told anyone anything yet because she wanted to be sure. But the morning sickness had lifted completely and she was now more energetic and lively than she had been for a long time. By now, everyone knew she was pregnant, although they did not know the details. Most of them suspected that the great Opera Ghost had something to do with it. Christine no longer participated in the operas, although she didn't mind hanging around the opera house when Raoul was busy doing something else. She and Dawn were becoming close quickly. Dawn's favorite time of day was when she, Meg, and Christine would all eat together. Sometimes Madame Giry even took a few minutes to come and talk to them. Madame Giry seemed to know something that the rest of them didn't. Dawn was highly tempted to ask, but she decided not to.

Erik slumped into the floor, exhausted. He looked around to survey his progress so far. His sketches littered the floor and he gathered them up to examine them. He was no stranger to having to build his own dwellings; he'd done so at least three times completely by himself. Luckily, the basic structure was already here; he just had to make it livable. It was the very top floor of the opera house, the floor that no one really used except for storage. Some of the boards were water damaged and had to be replaced. He'd taken out the broken windows and replaced those. Now, he was dividing up the cavernous space for smaller rooms. He'd nearly finished. Tomorrow, he'd be working on acquiring paint and furniture for this place. This, if everything worked out, would be where he and Dawn would live. Knowing that Dawn was a creature of light, he had placed the baby's room where two large windows let in plenty of sunlight. Across the newly formed hallway, his and Dawn's room would be. Beyond that was a sitting room, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a music room. With considerable difficulty, he'd already gotten the organ up here. The swan bed, unfortunately, was far too heavy and remained downstairs. With Madame Giry's help, he'd gotten a perfect replica of it up here. His stomach rumbled and he decided to call it a day. It was very late. A glass of wine, an apple, and some bread and cheese served as dinner.

But though his aching body begged for sleep, there was still something else he had to do. Refilling his glass a second time, Erik lit a candle in the waning sunset light and sat down at his organ.

Andre and Firmin were sitting in their office, lamenting the fact that they would have to choose an opera tomorrow or the Phantom would be on their case yet again.

"What are we going to do? We've already done Faust, Hannibal, Il Muto, Seven Swans! I'm out of ideas!" Firmin moaned.

"As am I," Andre sighed, "even Dawn couldn't get us out of this!"

"No, but I could."

The disembodied voice above them startled them both.

"Please, Monsieur Opera Ghost! Give us more time! We're really trying!" Both of them sounded like frightened children.

"I have a better idea."

Something landed on the desk with a loud THUNK!

"Now get back to work. If I'm working overtime, so will you!"

Andre cautiously approached the desk. The title "Angel of Music" was written in gilded gold print across the front of a large book. He flipped it open and saw pages and pages of music as well as a script.

"Oh, blast it! He's sent us another of his damned operas!" he moaned.

"Well, it looks as though we've got no choice," Firmin sighed, "we'll give this to the cast tomorrow."

Erik crept along the secret passageways with a satisfied smirk. His plans were going quite well. For the first time in a long while, he felt very sure of himself.

He just hoped that, for Dawn's sake and not his, that it all came together the way it was supposed to. After he emerged from the building, the warm summer air graced his face. He inhaled the flower-perfumed air before continuing on his way.

With a catlike grace, he scaled the wall in a strangely inhuman way. He even managed to slip past the massive dog that was guarding the path. When he approached the mansion, he retrieved a letter from inside his vest and slipped it into the mailbox beside the door. With his last errand of the day completed, he walked home in the wee hours of the morning to get some hard-earned sleep.

"I've never heard of this opera before," Meg confessed as she read her script, "maybe it's been translated from another language."

Dawn laughed.

"No, it's a one-of-a-kind," she said, pointing to a particular line, "this has Erik written all over it."

"How can you tell?" Meg asked.

"I can tell because I know his style and he taught me how to read music better," she explained, "look at this. Only he could come up with something like that."

She skimmed further.

"Wait a second! This song looks familiar!"

Meg leaned over her shoulder.

"It does look familiar. In fact, most of them sound like songs that you sing!"

Dawn chuckled.

"He's learned my style of music and put it in his writing," Dawn laughed, "that sneaky shadow!"

Squishie barked in agreement.

"Well, I guess this why I haven't heard from him," she said, "he must have been pretty busy."

Erik was hidden behind one of his mirrors. He wanted to laugh with her. If only she knew...

The piano player and conductor came into the room. It was time to get started.

While they were practicing, Erik continued work on what he hoped was his and Dawn's future home. Although they did not know the gender of the baby, the walls in its room were painted a soft blue. Erik just had a strange feeling that the child would be a boy. He'd already pulled a crib inside and carved two theater masks into the headboard. He'd also placed a cushioned rocking chair in the corner of the room by the small fireplace so that Dawn could look out the window as she rocked. The curtains were a soft white cotton material and the hardwood floors were polished up from their scuffed, disused state. Their bedroom was decorated in gold, red, and black. He made sure that there was enough space in the wardrobe for Dawn's clothes as well as his own. In their music room, he built shelves for the various books and scores that would soon fill them. There was also a small desk so that he didn't have to keep the kitchen table occupied with his sheet music. He framed Dawn's sketch and hung it in the sitting room along with a few of his own. Erik wasn't a lavish decorator, but the place really did feel like home. He had also made sure that there was more than one way in and out with a few secret doors here and there. After all, he was still the Phantom. That entire process took up another couple of months because all the shopping arrangements had to be done in secret and it was hard to move the larger items inconspicuously. By then, his special opera was nearly ready to be performed and Dawn's belly had inflated considerably. The night before "Angel of Music" opened, Dawn rushed home with Raoul because Christine had gone into labor. The result was a daughter.

The next morning, Dawn was considerably late. She arrived in Raoul's carriage alone and rushed in, apologizing to everyone.

"I know, I know, I'm late," she sighed as Andre and Firmin got on her case, "but I've got good news, really."

They demanded to know. She waited until she came onto the stage.

"All right," she called, "everybody pay attention! Raoul and Christine aren't here today because Christine had her baby last night."

Everyone went quiet.

"IT'S A GIRL!" Dawn yelled.

The room erupted into cheers.

"Now, let's get going! It's opening night and I don't know how much longer I'll hold mine in," Dawn said.

Everyone hurried off the stage for the actors who were starting to take their positions.

"How far along did you say you were?" Meg asked.

"Well, let me see, the last time I talked to Erik, I was four and a half," Dawn said, "the opera we did after that took a couple of months, so I was six and a half. This opera took two months, so I'm almost there."

She patted her very round belly.

"I'll be glad when this thing comes out," she said, "I can't walk, I just waddle. And if I thought I was a fat little cupcake when I got here, I must be a cream puff by now!"

Everyone chuckled.

Opening night was fairly uneventful. Dawn saw the faint white outline of Erik's mask in Box 5 and she tipped her head a little to indicate that she had. Then, she left the stage to get into her costume for the next act.

The second night was as uneventful as the first except that she found another one of Erik's signature roses on her dresser. Smiling, she went home with Raoul to go see Christine and the baby, whom Christine had named Aurore, which ironically meant "Dawn" in French. Dawn was deeply honored by that.

The third night was when a nervous Erik was praying that everything would work out. When Pierre went to take his place on the stage, Erik knocked him out and dragged him to a nearby chair. Quickly, with skilled fingers, he tied him up and hurried out.

Dawn stood in the center of the stage. She was in a white lacy dressed and had more than enough makeup on. Her hair cascaded in ringlets down her back. The soft piano began to play her opening.

"_I've been living with a shadow overhead_

_I've been sleeping with a cloud above my bed,_

_I've been lonely for so long,_

_trapped in the past, I just can't seem to move on._

_I've been hiding all my hopes and dreams away_

_Just in case I ever need them again some day._

_I've been setting aside time_

_to clear a little space in the corners of my mind."_

Erik emerged on the stage behind her and began to sing with her. Startled by the difference in cast, Dawn struggled to hide her surprise and managed to deceive the audience with little more than a twitch in her face.

"_All I want to do is find a way back into love._

_I can't make through without a way back into love."_

Dawn suddenly realized that, of course, this was planned like everything else had been. Erik came towards her as she sang the next few lines.

"_I've been watching but the stars refuse to shine,_

_I've been searching but I just don't see the sign!_

_I know that it's out there,_

_there's gotta be something for my soul somewhere."_

(Erik sang)_ I've been looking for someone to shed some light_

_not somebody just to get me through the night_

_I could use some direction_

_and I'm open to your suggestion._

(Both of them sang) _All I want to do is find a way back into love._

_I can't make it through without a way back into love._

_And if I open my heart again, _

_I guess I'm hoping you'll be there for me in the end..._

There was an instrumental break. They embraced, and Dawn sang the next line while staring into his eyes. By now, the audience had picked up on who he was and why he was there. Whispers filled the crowd.

_There are moments when I don't know if it's real_

_or if anybody feels the way I feel,_

_I need inspiration,_

_not just another negotiation._

Erik produced the engagement ring that he'd taken away from her. Now, he tenderly slid it onto her finger and elicited some gasps from the audience. They sang together, a stronger duet than anyone, opera cast and audience alike had ever heard. Their rich harmonies filled everyone with the promise of true love, not just stage-acting.

_All I want to do is find a way back into love._

_I can't make it through without a way back into love._

_But if I open my heart to you,_

_I'm hoping you'll show me what to do_

_and if you help me to start again,_

_you know that I'll be there for you in the end!!_

Dignity and propriety be damned, their lips sealed together as soon as they'd sang the final note. Thunderous applause broke out in the opera house before the song was even completely over and people began to stand. Dawn's face flushed brightly out of happiness. She knew his answer already because she saw it shining in his eyes, which were a glowing emerald green tonight.

"I could use some help back here!" Pierre called. They walked off the stage together and Erik freed Pierre. The ballerinas and chorus girls were in shock that the great Phantom of the Opera was there in their midst.

"Congratulations," Madame Giry said warmly, kissing Erik on the cheek as though they really were mother and son. Meg, giddily happy, hugged both of them before she realized she was even hugging Erik. Erik stiffened for a moment before returning the squeeze. Squishie was running around in circles and barking. Andre and Firmin were tipsy off of champagne that someone had smuggled in and they were in full song.

The sound of a baby crying caught Dawn's attention. A little red-haired girl came tearing backstage and she was sobbing her little heart out. Dawn's heart caught in her throat. She recognized that hair.

"Elizabeth! What are you doing here?!" Dawn exclaimed.

The Count and Countess came backstage. Both of them were furious.

"You wretched little brat, always running off!" the mother shouted. Elizabeth darted behind Dawn's skirts.

"Hey now," Dawn protested, "you scared her."

"I'll give her something to cry about!" the man roared. He snatched Elizabeth up and started pounding her on her little bottom. Elizabeth screamed bloody murder and everyone had turned around to see what was going on.

Erik lunged forward, but Dawn caught him by the wrist.

"Don't," Dawn told him.

"Enough!" a police officer pried Elizabeth out of the man's arms. She was shaking violently.

"Cruelty to a child is punishable by law," he reminded them, "and this time, your money won't convince me otherwise. Gentlemen, take them away!"

Two other police officers appeared and pulled the irate parents out.

Elizabeth was trying to stop crying. She looked tearfully up at Dawn.

"Mama!"

Dawn's eyes filled with tears.

"How on earth do you remember that?" she asked, scooping Elizabeth up. Elizabeth hugged her tightly. Elizabeth leaned over Dawn's shoulder and pointed at Erik.

"He told me."

All the tension that had been building up over the last couple of years came out in a gush. First, Dawn laughed. Then, she cried. Then, she did both at the same time.

"Oh, my God! I can't believe this!" Dawn choked out.

Erik grinned.

"You are so full of surprises, you know that!" Dawn gushed.

"There is a lot more to it," Madame Giry informed her. They separated from the crowd. Erik insisted that Dawn close her eyes. She did. Then, they led her upstairs.

"You can look now," Erik whispered, sending chills down her spine.

Before he'd gone to be in the last act of the play, he told Madame Giry to come up here and light all the candles so that Dawn could see every detail.

"Oh, my goodness!" Dawn breathed.

"If you will have me, I have secured us a place to live," Erik said, gesturing to the area. Dawn walked around, examining everything.

"Should we need more room, it will be easy to expand," Erik informed her.

"It's like a fairytale," she breathed, "God, I don't know what to say!"

Madame Giry slipped out of the room, sensing that her work was done.

Erik, of course, did have words.

"_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime.  
Say the word and I will follow you_

_Share each day with me, each night, each morning_

_anywhere you go, let me go too,  
that's all I ask of you."_

"All right," Dawn breathed, "I'm yours."_  
_


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

A/N: All right, my Phan-buddies! I very much hate to inform you that this will be the final chapter in the love story between Dawn and Erik. If I had my way, I'd go on forever, but all great stories have to end sometime. (sniff) I'm going to miss it so much. This story's kept me busy for almost two semesters and the reviews have been the light of my life. However, I will be writing more Phantom stories in the near future (hopefully), so be on the lookout for them.

Erik: As much as I hate admitting this, I've grown quite fond of you, Sybl.

Me: (grins) You can stay as long as you want.

Erik: I might come back some other time. You're one of the few sane Phan-girls I've met. Sadly, someone else is calling me and (sighs) it is my job as a muse to go where I am called.

Me: (hands him a suitcase) Ah, well. I can't wait until you come back! (hugs)

Erik: Sybl? You can let go now! (squirms) I hate being a Gerik sometimes!

Chapter 19

The next week, so much happened that it was nearly impossible to keep up. Dawn and Erik were married in a private ceremony where only Meg, Madame Giry, Christine, Raoul, their baby, and Squishie were allowed in. Dawn was much too pregnant to fit in a wedding dress, so she just used her costume dress from the opera. Erik was dressed up, also. He wore a fedora hat to help obscure his mask more. Shortly after they were married, Dawn complained of a sharp pain in her back. A few hours later, a doctor announced that she was in labor. Meg and Madame Giry took Elizabeth so that she would have one less thing to worry about. While they'd been signing the wedding certificate, they had also signed Elizabeth's adoption certificate.

"I can't believe this," Dawn wheezed through a contraction, "two kids in one week. I was definitely not expecting this one."

Erik would have laughed, but her hand tightened painfully around his. The doctor had insisted on Erik waiting outside, but Erik (obviously) wouldn't stand for that. He'd glued himself to Dawn's side and hadn't left. She'd been in labor for nearly five hours now. Surely that kid had to be coming soon!

An earsplitting scream confirmed it. Dawn's face had reddened from effort and tears were streaking her cheeks.

After the afternoon's labor, the evening's delivery was relatively short. Within a few minutes, the doctor lifted up the wriggling new life that had just slid into his hands. The child began to wail as soon as it was free of Dawn's birth canal.

"You have a son," the doctor announced to Erik, "congratulations."

_I knew it,_ Erik thought as the doctor tied the cord shut and cut it.

Dawn was the first to hold the baby while the soaked sheets and towels were removed and replaced with clean ones.

"So, you're the one that's been kicking me," Dawn laughed weakly, "just been born and you got your daddy's temper."

Erik couldn't suppress a grin. He lifted a corner of the blanket to look into the baby's face. There were no flaws as far as he could see.

"Here, Dad, take him for a second," Dawn said, handing the baby to him while she readjusted her pillows.

Erik received the baby with open arms. Happiness filled his soul up and overflowed as crystal droplets on his cheeks. He pressed his cheek against the baby's forehead, feeling his warm, light breath.

"Look at him," Dawn said proudly, "he's us, Erik. He's you and me put together, and yet he's still something different. But we did that. We made him. Together."

Erik sat down on the edge of the bed so that he could be closer to Dawn. They both unwrapped the blanket just for a second to inspect him. He was perfect, at least to them.

There was a slight tapping on the door. Madame Giry and Meg entered.

"Has the baby come yet?" Meg asked. Erik gestured to the bedroom. Dawn was still there, beaming down at the tiny face.

There were more visitors than Erik was comfortable with, but he tolerated them all for Dawn's sake. Raoul and Christine came up to visit shortly afterward. A few of the other ballet girls also came to check things out. Erik breathed a sigh of relief when they were all gone. Elizabeth had come back. Erik was grateful that he'd managed to secure a bed for her. Unsure of how to address a child, Erik tried to think of what Dawn would say.

"Come here, Elizabeth," he said, stooping down to her level, "come and meet your brother."

She followed him eagerly into the bedroom. She seemed fascinated by the newborn baby.

"I think they'll get along just fine," Dawn said, watching her chatter to her brother.

It didn't take long for the children to start growing up. It seemed as though they blinked once and Christine had another baby when Elizabeth and Christophe were seven and five respectively. They blinked again and Elizabeth had her first audition to be a trained ballet dancer. They blinked again and she was celebrating her sixteenth birthday and Christophe was going off with the other tenor boys and getting into various forms of trouble that Erik seemed to constantly have to get him out of. One of those incidents involved them accidentally locking themselves in the mirror room. Erik left them in there for a night to give them a good scare (and he was STILL good at it!). They blinked again and Elizabeth and Christophe were fully grown.

"I can hardly believe this," Dawn sighed, noticing yet another laugh line around her mouth, "when did everything start happening so fast?"

"When you arrived here," Erik teased. Time had been reasonably good to him. His hair had begun to silver a little bit, but he looked no worse for wear. Dawn, however, was a little dismayed because she'd never had a firm body in the first place and things were beginning to sag a little bit. Erik didn't care in the slightest. His love for Dawn only grew over the years.

"Guess what?" he whispered.

Dawn grinned.

"We're alone for the first time in almost nineteen years?"

"Exactly. God, has it really been that much time?"

She closed her eyes as he began to sing, letting his sensuous voice flow over her ears.

The next morning, Madame Giry pulled Dawn aside.

"As you know, I'm much too old to be dancing," Madame laughed, "but I need someone to train the new girls and boys."

Dawn gave her a curious look.

"Why me? Why not Meg?"

"Meg's going to be teaching, too; the two of you made quite a team."

Dawn nodded.

"Thanks. I'm honored that you'd pick me," she said, giving the old woman's hand a gentle squeeze.

"Where will you go?" Dawn asked.

"I will stay here, but I will only come to the operas to watch. Besides, Erik needs someone to keep him company while you are away," she said, grinning, "and to keep him out of trouble."

Dawn giggled.

"All right."

She hurried back upstairs during lunchtime to tell Erik.

"Erik?" she called, coming inside. Knowing that he was, more than likely, in the music room, she carefully eased the door open. The sight that she came across made her chuckle and shake her head. Erik was slumped against his organ, forehead touching the music shelf. His mask was askew and his mouth was open. Quiet, subtle snores were coming out.

"Working that hard, huh?" Dawn asked. She kissed him on the back of the neck, causing him to jolt awake. Upon seeing his surprised, slightly disoriented expression, she chuckled more.

"Been busy, I see," she said, gesturing to the half-finished page of music. Erik adjusted his mask.

"Not busy enough," he mumbled, "I've got writer's block."

Dawn embraced him.

"Take a break," she said, "I've got some good news."

They went into the kitchen to get some lunch. While Dawn sliced up some bread, she informed him of her new teaching position. A look crossed Erik's face that she'd never seen before; but his eyes were bright green, indicating he was plotting something.

"Oh, good lord, what are you scheming now?" Dawn asked.

"You could help me teach these cough new students."

Dawn's eyebrows raised.

"How in the Hell do you propose I do that? I can't play piano. Or organ."

"I will find a way."

In the end, Dawn ended up serving as a mediator for the opera house occupants and its famous Phantom. Lottie, one of Squishie's descendants, tagged behind Dawn wherever she went. Whenever Erik gave a lesson, Dawn served as a temper cooler for Erik and assisted in giving suggestions so that the new singers weren't terrified beyond belief (although they did walk away nervous). None of them actually made the connection that Dawn and the great Opera Ghost were a couple although there were rumors.

More years passed; at least fifty. The grand Opera Populaire closed down, but was kept standing as a historical site.

Raoul, unable to walk on his own, was escorted to the graveyard by a nurse and accompanied by his daughter and son. He touched the statue of the angel gingerly.

"Oh, Christine," he sighed, "I wish you could have seen it. The Opera House was saved today from being torn down! Christophe's son, Andre, plays the violin beautifully. He sat on the steps playing it and wouldn't move until he was sure it would stay!"

A tear rolled down his cheek.

He looked up to see Dawn's grave some distance away. Her grave also had a statue of an angel, but this one was a perfect likeness of her and it held an electric guitar in its hands. Upon closer inspection, he saw a red rose with a black ribbon tucked into one of her white stone hands. Her eyes, although unmoving, looked towards the heavens with more hope and optimism than some living people did. The curve of her lip held the smile of a secret.

Although the Phantom's grave was right beside hers, Raoul wasn't entirely sure that he was dead. Strange things continued to happen at the old Opera Populaire, one of which was mysterious organ music coming from the basement or the attic. Some people reported seeing the curve of a white mask in their mirrors. Raoul wanted to laugh at them all; yes, though Erik Leroux was dead, his spirit would live on forever as the Phantom of the Opera.

As he looked, he thought he saw a cape blowing out of the corner of his eye and heard the faintest strains of music:

_You have shared with me_

_one love, one lifetime_

_you have saved me from my solitude_

_We shared together _

_each night, each morning_

_You showed me love,_

_in return, I loved you..._

_That's all I asked of you..._

_And anywhere you go,_

_let me go too..._

_love me, that's all I ask..._

_of..._

_you..._

Raoul's sight was also beginning to fail him, but for the first time in years, he saw something perfectly clear. In the golden sunlight stood a girl in strange clothes, laughing. Beside her, a golden dog bounced around, lighter than air. She was so faint, so transparent that he almost doubted her existence completely. And then, a dark figure, so vague-looking, so quick was he, that he might have been a shadow, joined her. For a moment, the three figures stood there, looking at him. Then, they disappeared.


End file.
